Monday, February 29, 2016

CMA-CGM BENJAMIN FRANKLIN

Shot from Sunset Hill, the Benjamin Franklin steams south towards Seattle

At 2130 hours last Sunday night the largest container ship ever to enter the Salish Sea rounded Cape Flattery and began her first ever trip down the Strait of Juan de Fuca.  She loafed down the straits well under normal cruising speed and on Monday at 0630 passed by Shilshole.   90 minutes later the UK flagged ‘CMA-CGM Benjamin Franklin’ berthed at Seattle’s Terminal 18.

She’s 1,309 feet long, 177 feet wide and draws 53 feet.  Fully loaded she can carry 18,000 TEU’s (twenty foot container equivalents).  For comparison, that’s roughly the entire annual volume for Limited Brands.  In three trips she could hold all of Gap’s annual product.  She burns 330 Tons of fuel each day.  Within 200 miles of the US coast she burns low Sulphur fuel and while docked the engines are turned off and city power is utilized.

Not only was she the largest container ship to enter the Salish Sea, she is currently the largest container ship to ever dock in North America.  Launched last December, this was her second trip and at the moment, she can’t be filled to capacity to call on any West Coast Port.  The cranes at the Port of Los Angeles can only lift to 133 feet high.  Seattle has cranes that can lift to 145 feet.  If the Benjamin Franklin was fully loaded, she’d need cranes that could lift to 170 feet high.

This ship is only the first in a wave of mega-container ships.   By way of comparison, many of the larger container ships calling into Seattle are 8 to 10 thousand TEU’s (20 foot containers).  At 18,000 TEU’s, the Benjamin Franklin is a quantum leap larger.

While they are more economical for carriers to move freight and they appear to be more efficient to unload (according to data from the Journal of Commerce) they do create challenges for terminals.  Harbor depth is not an issue in Seattle, but depth in the berth is.  Considerable infrastructure would be needed to maximize the usage of these ships.


Approaching the ship
The gang plank

How about that for freeboard?

I was lucky enough to be invited aboard the ship.  Just getting to the main deck requires a very long gangplank and the bridge is 7 stories above that.  The sense of scale is off the charts.



Unloading operations were being monitored from an office just off the main deck

After being herded into a very small elevator (I don’t think they thought we could climb 7 stories) we arrived at the bridge where the captain held court answering questions.    He mentioned that this ship was a little easier to handle than the ‘smaller’ container ships owing to the Benjamin Franklin’s massive rudder.

That, and the two bow thrusters.  5,000 horsepower.  Each.
The view forward
The Bridge


And what a pilot house!
Captain Danko Matulovic
After touring a recreational lounge and a cabin for guests, we descended into the bowls of the ship to view the engine ‘room’.  Call it an engine cavern.  Rated at some 64,000 Kilowatts, the engine could power a town of 16,000 people.  


To get a sense of scale, look at the folks on the rail at the other end of the engine


From the other end of the cavern

The floor is several stories down

This visit was a test and the initial (and very preliminary) perception was that the Port of Seattle is rising to the challenge.  The ship took a little longer to dock than usual, so while the unloading started a little late, the productivity was reported as ‘good’.    This was merely an informal assessment, but there didn’t appear to be any major issues as the cranes did their work.
The long route to the engine room

The tour was all too brief, but a glimpse into the future of shipping as the larger ships become more the norm.



Sunday, February 28, 2016

IF YOU DON'T LIKE THE WEATHER WAIT 10 MINUTES


Another weekend trip to the island.  Friday night ramble up I-5, then caught the 7:50 boat.

The chores for the weekend included getting stuff to the dump.  Several years of accumulated stuff all stowed in the shed ready for disposal.

Canadian sailboats motor by.  Did they know what would be in store for them the following day?
These burn around 50 gallons an hour or so and they were zipping by.  Kinda wonder what the carbon foot print of the US coast guard looks like?

Saturday night dinner was excellent.  Duck Breast for appetizers then Elk for dinner.  Better than steak.  Really, really good.  Great company as well.  Note to self:  Shoot off a thank you note....
Sunday morning.  Calm at first....
The curious one
The subject of the curiosity



The wind starts to rise
Reefed jib, the wind hit close to 30 or so



The barometer fell, then hit bottom and bounced.  The front had moved on, the sky cleared, but the wind remained.


The sailboats were back, but they had their hands full.



A good weekend.  Productive and relaxing.



Took the shot of the rainbow from the ferry.  Nice way to end the weekend.

Monday, February 15, 2016

BATTING 750




 February 13th marked the 3rd weekend out of the last four that Cambria had been out of the slip on the weekend.  We had five objectives for the weekend:


  • Get to Port Orchard
  • Sail as much as possible
  • Circumnavigate Bainbridge Island
  • Fill up with Fuel
  • Put on a dinner for Kristina and Dana

Adam, my temporary roommate aboard Cambria, appears to be at his happiest when sailing.  Recently back from a 6 week delivery gig  involving taking a Catamaran from Italy through the Med and across the Atlantic, the pursuit of a career on the water is his focus.  It’s nice to have a competent sailor onboard and his talents were appreciated on this trip.

The wind was blowing close to 20 knots from the south.  A double reefed main went up first shortly after clearing the breakwater.  We unfurled the jib, killed the engine, and began to drive to windward.  We beat across the sound and found Kristina and Dana on Rubigale near the shore of the peninsula.


Both boats tacked, but while Cambria is faster, Rubigale points higher.  We began a long tack towards Seattle, fighting both the wind and the current.  Then the heavens opened and it began to rain.  Pour.



The text trash talk had begun with Rubigales crew.  The gals were decked out in their foulies, fighting the elements in a largely open cockpit.  Cold and wet, they were really sailing.  Comfortable in a protected cockpit, Adam went below to prepare a hot meal.





We lost them in the rain, but when we crossed tacks with them again, they were slightly ahead.  Our speed was not adequately compensating for their pointing ability.  The wind appeared to be slacking so we shook the reef out of the main to get more power and at that point we were sailing fairly well.

Then the gusts hit laying us well over on several occasions.  Cambria’s rig is plenty strong having replaced all of it last year, but angle of the heel did some un-decorating down below.  The bookshelves emptied, the dehumidifier did a dance across the floor and the top of the nav station was suddenly clean.  Books and cards littered the floor.  It looked worse than it was, but loose stuff was scattered everywhere.  All of it, of course, was my fault for treating the boat a bit more like a home then a proper sailing vessel.



We stayed on our ear through out the next hour or so, and as we tacked near Elliot Bay marina, we set up a nice line to clear the southern part of Bainbridge and through Rich passage.

As we entered Rich Passage we cracked off the wind a bit and helped by a little by the current hit just over 8 knots.

As we got further into Rich Passage it was really raining and the wind began to die.  We cranked on the engine, furled the jib and an exhilarating sail came to an anti climactic end.  Rubigale had called it quits as well and was behind us and followed through the pass.

While it looked like a tornado had spun through the Cambria’s cabin, clean up didn’t take that long and with the boat presentable, dinner preparations had begun.

Earlier in the day we had smoked a pork tenderloin at the dock and that, with garlic mash potatoes and Adams excellent Aspargus, sautéed with Bacon, formed a nice meal.  Kristina and Dana came over to get warm and a few others from the cruise dropped in as well and a nice social time ensued.



Sunday morning Dana and Kristina came over to make a great breakfast and we all shared stories.  Kristina, in particular, had trekked in the Himalaya, and had worked for several years in Alaska in the fishing business, occasionally commuting to work via helicopter.  Great stories and served as inspiration for possible future adventures.

One by one the other boats peeled out of Port Orchard.  I walked around the town briefly but was largely disappointed.  On that particular grey morning my gaze was drawn to boarded up store fronts, ‘for rent’ signs, and a couple of establishments with ‘liquidation, going out of business’ signs.  Aided by the grey rain, Port Orchard, to my eye, looked challenged.

We left the dock, again with two reefs and had a nice downwind romp out of Port Orchard, occasionally hitting above 8 knots.


After encountering Will who had just filled up with fuel, we too filled up with fuel at Brownsville, which for years repeatedly has the lowest diesel prices on the sound, and headed  North through Agate passage.

Rounding out over the top end of Bainbridge the breeze freshened so again the jib was unfurled, the engine silenced and we had a great reach across the sound.

As we approached Shilshole, the radio crackled to life and the skipper of a 36 foot boat named the ‘King Gustav’ was reporting high seas and requested coast guard assistance. The boat was about 5 nautical miles south of us.   After getting the details of the boat and how many persons aboard, the coast guard asked the skipper to describe the sea state and he responded with “high seas, 5 to 6 feet high”.

Adam and I looked at each other then looked out at our situation.  We were having an extraordinarily nice reach with the wind perhaps at 10 knots and our seas were 5 to 6 as well, but measured in inches.  The weather, at that point in time, was pleasant in nearly every respect.

The coast guard was professionally incredulous as well, asking the skipper exactly what assistance he was requesting.  He responded somewhat hesitantly but appeared to be requesting help without knowing exactly what help he needed.  Perhaps an example of someone who has relied on the belief that some authority will come to his rescue at the expense of being personally self sufficient.

A fire station boat was dispatched, at public expense, to check out the situation.  We did not hear of the outcome.

What I suspect happened was a neophyte boater had encountered some localized tidal action and panicked.

As we approached dock we received a text message from Will, showing us his welcoming committee on the dock.



A large and either sick or pregnant Sea Lion was on the dock and unwilling to re-enter the water.

We docked without incident.

I reviewed our initial 5 objectives for the weekend and concluded each had been well met.  Adam and I clinked glasses at a fine weekend outing.

This week will be a drippy one.....






 














Sunday, February 7, 2016

OLIVE THE OTHER REINDEER

Saturday's Sunrise



Lumpy in the straits

On final approach
Friday night was another run up I5 then a lumpy ferry ride.  With 20 knots on the beam, the ferry was tossed a bit crossing Rosario straits. Not the lumpiest trip I’ve been on, but up there.  Bouncy.
Saturday morning dawned colorfully.  It got me thinking.  The days are getting longer as the earth orbits round the sun. In mid December we had about 8 hours of sunlight each day and in mid June we’ll have about double that - 16 hours of sunlight.  More if you count the extended twilight at that time of year. Pretty soon we’ll be adding 20 minutes of daylight each week and over the course of 3 weeks we’ll add a full hour.  Can’t wait.


Sunday Morning's sunrise





The blue line corresponds with the left axis -- hours during the day. The right line is the rate of change each week, measured in minutes on the right side of the graph.  In December, the rate of change is slow, one week being nearly the same as the previous week.  It starts to accelerate in January, each week being about 10 minutes longer at the beginning of the month but then things start to happen faster.  As I write, we're adding 15 minutes each week but at the end of the month it'll be pegged at just over 20 minutes through the first part of May, then, while the days continue to elongate, the rate of change slows till we hit the summer solstice. 


Taxes

1945 life insurance

The task of the day was taxes.  Mom had a done a pretty good job of assembling the paper and together we went through and got things ready.  Then there were the little tasks - the door handle, the lopsided shade, and the annual burning of documents.   The 7 year rule opened up 2008 stuff to the inferno.  Some documents were considerably older, like this 1945 life insurance policy. 70 years ago the annual premiums were $169.60.




Immature "Bald" eagle

There were a number of eagles hanging around the house. A few young ones without the white head as well as mature adults.  But  before I get into the story, why do we call them ‘bald’ eagles?  Their feathers have turned white, they’re not bald. They have feathers.  I’m bald.  No feathers.  Or hair.  But I digress.

Mom had said there’s a dead deer on the beach and that’s why the abundance of eagles.  Despite their noble stature, their eating habits are less than gourmet.  They aren’t picky and ask any Osprey, eagles are opportunistic.  They only work when they really have to.  

I went down to the beach to try to get a good eagle shot.  In focus with no branches in front of it.  Preferably with wings outstretched.  That shot had alluded me of late.  I have plenty of out of focus and obscured pictures of eagles. 

I found the deer, but the antlers weren’t any that I recognized.  They had flat sections, almost like a small moose.  But it wasn’t a moose.  I ended up taking a picture of it and posting on Facebook.  A friend offered the identification and I think she’s right.  Later another Island friend, an Audubon expert, pretty much confirmed it.  It was a Fallow Deer, native to Eurasia, but exported to different parts of the world for hunting.

It likely, almost certainly, came from Spieden Island, site of the former ‘Safari Island’ back in the 70’s.  The ’Safari’ moniker never took and fortunately the ‘hunting’, if you could call it that, stopped years ago, but some of the animals adapted , bred and remained. 

My old friend Dean offered that it was one of Santa’s reindeer.  Later in the evening, about 2/3rds the way through my Manhattan, a thought occurred to me.  I took the cherry out of the drink and posted a photograph of it next to the original deer picture and claimed I had found it near the carcass.

Another friend chimed with with “RIP, Rudolph” but Dean had the last word.  He later posted, “At least it wasn’t Olive the other reindeer”.  Only Dean.

I did get the shot I wanted — sort of. 



Rudolphs nose?

The shot I was looking for
Stock shot of a Fallow Deer in better times



Dinner was good, as usual.

Taxes were mostly done, a few odds and ends attended to, took few pics and have my first Fallow Deer story.

Good weekend.