MAILBOX - OLD TRAIL

For years I’ve been hearing dreaded tales of the old trail up Mailbox Peak.  When hiking I’ve heard comments along the lines of, “Well this is steep, but not like Mailbox”.  I’ve always been a little afraid of Mailbox and wondered “Could I do it?”.

Here’s a copy paste from the WTA website:

“The old route up Mailbox Peak holds a special place among the peaks along I-90. It has traditionally been a rough climber’s trail, an unrelentingly steep, rooted, rocky, muddy torture test, a crucible in which the summits of summer are forged. More than almost any other trail, it assaults gravity with single-minded determination, proceeding more or less due east straight up a ridge line to the summit, gaining some 3,800 feet in two and a half miles after an initial short jaunt up a DNR road. There is nary a switchback in sight.”

The result?  We made it to the top.  Difficult?  Yes, but it felt pretty good.  I was toast in the evening and went to bed early, but this morning I’m not really sore (that may hit later today or tomorrow).

For now, I have just one thought:  Gotta do that again…..

MAST-ECTOMY

Took the mast off of Cambria today.

I've decided against hauling a TV antenna aloft.  Too many other needed things.

The mast came off a few hours ago.  No drama as it came off and all in all it's in good shape.   Excellent shape, in fact, for her age.  Nonetheless there are things to do.

1.  New VHF Antenna and coax
2.  New mast head tri color LED / anchor light
3.  Replace the steaming light and deck light
4.  New wind meter.

The antenna and wind meter just need replacing.  The wiring is old and cracking and while I'll get the same functionality, they'll both be new.

The tri color is an enhancement and will be a better option when sailing and anchoring.  It'll be LED with a very low power draw.  I'll need to rewire to the switches as well, so I'll have a 'steaming' mode and a 'sailing' mode.

Now I need to get more estimates....

Corrosion at the base of the compression post

PAST PRESENT AND FUTURE

The weekend was a combination in looking towards the future while enjoying both the present and the past.

Saturday we dove into taxes.  Looking to the future, Mom had gathered all her receipts and statements for all activity to prepare a budget and had combined that with the taxes.  A sort of scavenger hunt ensued, trying to ferret out the tax documents from amongst all the other assorted documents.  It did get done without too much frustration.  We narrowed the list of questions down to 2 or 3 and called it good.

Mom had mentioned the previous night there was a dinner party Saturday night, but all the guests had to be at the house no later than 5pm.  There was a surprise in store and she was pretty tight lipped as to what it was.

Bruce and Carol were in Friday Harbor and Carol’s brother and sister in law were coming over on a later ferry, so I played taxi driver to get Bruce and Carol to whatever surprise awaited at the house.  In the meantime some of Mom’s old friends, Ed and Judy and Bill and Carol came over and as the clocked ticked to 5pm, several cars came down the driveway.

It was the ‘Island Chordsmen’ and 15 singers and a conductor arrived at the house and in beautiful barbershop quartet harmonies they serenaded the group with Valentines day songs.

Soon it was time to get Lindy and Lori and with the wine flowing the stories started.  Seemed many of us had experiences with the  coast guard - Bruce and I aboard a 21 foot bayliner just south of Juneau, Alaska with a broken prop in the middle of humpback whales, a shore full of bears, and a spare prop that spun the wrong way (the long version is entertaining).

Then Ed had a close call a few years ago hunting.  Seems his hunting dog wouldn’t fetch a bird which turned out to be a smart thing.  For the dog.  It was a cold January late afternoon with a screaming ebb and a strong south wind.  Ed jumped in a small boat and as he rowed he realized the combination of the current and wind precluded him from returning to shore.  As the light was failing, the boat sprang a leak and began to fill with water.  Bailing by hand he managed stay afloat and get to a small island.   What was supposed to be a 5 minute row at 3pm to retrieve a duck turned into a near midnight retrieval of himself in a metal basket and hauled up to a Coast Guard helicopter.

Mom then told my sister’s story when she was in junior high.  What should have been a 15 minute trip for her and a friend late one april afternoon from the cabin to Roche turned into a 10pm rescue effort (also involving a helicopter) after the engine failed and my sister tied to kelp off Sentinel island.

One of the better non coast guard story was Lindy’s close call with a planer the previous week.  Holding up 3 bandaged fingers he related his efforts to fulfill a 20 year old promise to make 6 cabinet doors.  His labors were interrupted by the close encounter which involved a blood trail from the shop to the kitchen and a prompt ride to the emergency room.

We were all laughing at our errors and ill luck, but all were there to tell the tales with all extremities still attached.

Sunday was more of a focus on the future as Mom and I attacked the sword ferns.  A landscape guy told her if you thwack back the old growth in February, you’ll get better growth in the spring.  We either accomplished that or killed them all.  We’ll know in a few weeks.

Sunday night was a look back as we went through some 40 year old slides.

Mom and Dad had gone up to Desolation sound several times over the course of a few years and there were 3 pictures, taken from the same place at the same anchorage that were identical.

There were a few other pictures that re-affirmed I am extraordinarily lucky.

Best place for a Hammock

Dave and I before the trip

Scott, Kerry Dick, Wade (?), Me, John.

Me,  Ron (white hat(, Geoff, Rob, Tracy (saluting), Clayton.  40 years ago.

Fun on the ketch

LOOKING FOR SPRING

It’s February and the days are getting a little longer.  December was cold, but January and so far in February it’s been warmer than usual and drier.  So I wanted to look for Spring on the property.  You have to look hard, but it’s there….

Itty bitty buds are starting

The first wild flower to bloom -- skunk cabbage

BOAT PROJECTS

Last year it was the engine.  Water pumps, heat exchanger, etc, etc, etc.  This year started with an informal rig inspection that confirmed what I had suspected.  The rig was suspect and being original, was over-ripe for being replaced.   During the inspection the expert told me that the pins in the rig where guaranteed for 6 years — but then she winked and said "but some get 10 years out of them".  She and I both knew the pins dated back to 1983.

If I had planned this out, I would have done it in reverse order. Rig, sail handling, then finally the sail cover.

But last fall, I ordered a new sail cover for the main replacing an aging and nearly non-functional stack pack.  It’s a Doyle cradle  cover and it works great.  Next I had the running rigging replaced.  Main, Jib, and Spinnaker halyards followed by the outhaul and new reef points.  The nice thing is the cradle cover is independent of the aging main sail so a new sail will fit nicely in the new cradle cover (the new sail is 2-3 years away, the existing sail still has life to it).

The only cool thing about the old stack pack was the pulley system that Dad had designed and built to zip this 18 foot zipper.  The guy that installed the cradle cover saw how it worked and told me ‘I’m going to retro fit a few boats and use this system for future builds for boats like yours’.  Nice work, Dad.

The standing rigging won’t be as easy.  The rig was inspected and there were 2 findings.  There’s a crack in the fitting that attaches the forestay to the hull and the compression post supporting the mast is corroding at the base.  Both need addressing in addition to replacing all the stays, shrouds and fittings. All need to be measured and custom made.

I’ll likely need to redo the ground tackle.  The anchor is fine — more than fine, actually.  The chain needs to be re-galvanized and I’ll need new anchor rode.  We’ll see how much the rigging is then decide whether the ground tackle is a this year thing or next year thing.

The top needs top needs to be cleaned and re-waterproofed.  Not expensive, but will take some elbow grease. It’s getting old, but still holds up well.  Put that in the category of cleaning up and extending rather than replace.

The aft rail and forward handholds need to be taken down to bare wood and re-done.  The rest of the woodwork needs a quick once over.

Unexpectedly I’m also getting a life raft and that will have to be installed.

My original plan was to put in solar panels and get a wind generator, but those will have to wait until the structural / safety issues are addressed and solved.

All this is about to happen — on the 18th, the mast will be pulled.  On the 24th the boat will be hauled. I’m hoping that nothing unexpected is found during the haul out.  The prop and shaft are a little worrisome, but we’ll see what shape they are in. The zincs have been maintained so not expecting bad news (oops, there I said it).

The boat is getting ready to go places.  I just don’t know where yet.

NOTHING BAD HAPPENED

The short story is nothing bad happened.  But it could have.

The trip up to Port Ludlow was great.  Motored up against mild northerlies, worked my way to the eastern side, raised the sails and had a nice line with main and jib set.  6 knots to windward, headed in almost the right direction.  Silent and reveled in utilizing only wind power to drive the boat north. 

Really a nice ride alternating under full sail where it would work, power when it didn’t.  Sorry, purists, but while I love sailing, ya gotta get where ya gotta go. 

I had some time after I arrived so I checked out the bullfrog dingy.  The steering was frozen.  I worked on it a bit and left the engine disconnected from the rod.  The beginning of my mistakes.

Fully enjoyable day enhanced by the evening meal of chowder supplied by several of the other Windworks  boats.  Great conversation on a variety of topics, truly a wonderful group of people.  The next morning included coffee with John followed by a killer meal. Truly a killer (no fruit or veges) meal that was absolutely wonderful.

One by one the boats left the dock headed back.  It's unclear when the small craft warnings popped up, but  the southerly had some authority to it.  The winds were higher than previously forecasted.  I raised my jib after clearing the lines and it’s a good thing as wind was piping up on the beam from Hood Canal.  The run to Foul weather bluff wasn’t too bad, but after rounding the bluff the wind was right on the nose.  Doused the jib and motored head long into building seas.

As I approached Point No Point, I put myself into a position I didn’t want to be in.  The waves were getting impressively big and I simply hadn’t expected it.  The dinghy was moving a bit more on the davits than it should have with the outboard turning back and forth.  That, more than anything else was worrying me as the boat pitched up and down.  There were some crashes below as various things were thrown about (again, my fault) but the only real option was to slug it out.  

There was some tidal action going on around the point as the waves were short stacked and huge.  A flood competing with southerly.   There were at least 3 waves where Cambria buried the bow completely and green water swept over the deck. The boat would shudder and then rise to the occasion.  There was so much up and down motion that the forward progress would slow to around 2 knots, the bow pitching high in the air then plummeting down and spray shooting out on both sides then rising again.

At one point I had that dreaded thought ‘this is when bad things happen’.  The boat is sound, but I was increasingly worried about the gyrations of the dinghy on the davits as well as the engine.   All it would take would be one fitting to fail and in those waves you’d have your hands full correcting the situation.   I have bolt cutters aboard, but they aren’t readily accessible.   I have several knives, but I wasn’t wearing one.   I shuddered at the thought of trying to pick up the dinghy, exposing my beam to 6-8 foot waves and doing so single handed.  I don’t think it could have been done.  

I wasn’t really concerned with my own safety – it was uncomfortable, but not unsafe.  I was concerned with harming the boat.

I alternated between veering off and quartering the waves and slugging it out straight into it.  My goal was not speed - it was making progress towards home.  There was a larger 49 Jeaneau Windworks boat with main up that was clearly ‘tacking’ back and forth across the sound, quartering the waves and making much better speed than I, but they were covering a lot of ground doing it.

As I approached Kingston, the waves had moderated slightly, but I was pretty much done.  I called Kingston and they had room and would assist me in docking.  I held a course that would take me to the marina, but as I did so the waves moderated a little more and my mood improved.   I checked down below and aside from things being tossed about there was no damage.

Abeam of Kingston, I made the decision to continue south, working in the lee of Jefferson Head then crossing the sound at a slight angle to the wind.  The 49’ boat that had been tacking back and forth was on the other side of the sound and we arrived at nearly the same time back at Shilshole.

Docking was uneventful save for my knee hitting my favorite tea mug which then broke — the only damage of the day.  I’m getting the routine down of single handed docking and it’s fairly easy.  I and been all set up to simply go to the fuel dock and wait for the wind to die, but as I entered the breakwater, the wind dropped significantly and I felt comfortable getting her into her home slip.

In retrospect, I should have prepared both the boat, and myself,  a little better.  I should have known about the tide rips around Pt no Pt.   I need to secure the bullfrog better and I’m addressing the rigging in a few weeks.   Cambria is a strong, seaworthy boat and proved it again today.

The skipper needs a little sharpening.

I've sailed up and down the inside passage.  Twice to Alaska, many times to the north end of Vancouver Island, around Vancouver Island and sailed over the Columbia bar.  I've had several sessions with Johnstone Strait, two of will be burned in my memory forever -- but while I learned (and perhaps re-learned) several lessons this weekend, the key one dates back to boy scout days.  Always be prepared.   A weekend jaunt on the sound, even when winds are forecasted light, can quickly change and in short order you can have your hands full.  Expect it.  

My ordeal paled in comparison to some of the other boats.   I did have a sheltered cockpit (despite the spray I never put on foul weather gear or boots).  I was not out in the elements for any extended time.  There were smaller boats with open cockpits and they had the tougher time.

The only saving grace was the super bowl loss.   The Hawks, 36 inches from a ‘re-pete’, made an ill advised pass and lost the name in the final seconds.

I think the awesome strength of the forces we had just witnessed put the game in a more proper perspective.