KUPER (AND BURL)

Burl Ives must have loved dogs.  His long forgotten "I found my best friend at the dog pound" had a nice sentiment.  One that Mom, Leigh and I shared on a recent and very sad weekend. 

Dad was 78 when he and mom got a Havanese Puppy.  Getting a puppy at age 78 defines optimism.   I think I did an eye roll and I certainly thought it wasn't their best move.  I was flat wrong.

Kuper and my folks were inseparable.  On the boat, road trips in the Tahoe, but mostly on the island.  Kuper was named after 'Kuper' Island.  An island that has since been renamed by the Canadian government, but I don't want to get too far off track. 

When Dad passed, Kuper really earned his stripes.  He was mom's constant companion.  Over the years the routine set in and Kuper's sense of time was impeccable.  Precisely at 11am he'd start making sounds requesting (perhaps demanding) a treat.  11am.  Not 10:45 ie 11:15, but unerringly and eerily as close to 11am as possible for a living being who never owned a watch. 

A little over a year ago he started an odd coughing and had a couple of scary episodes.  Congestive heart failure.  Meds could extend his life by several months and he outlived his initial prognosis. 

So the writing has been on the wall for some time, but even with his slow decline he held up his part of the bargain.  He was largely pretty happy and stuck to his routine, but in recent weeks it's been tougher.  And on Saturday, things seemed pretty grim until Mrs Laurnen came to visit and he perked up.  But it was only temporary.

Mom had called early on Saturday and Leigh and I made plans to head to the island.  I texted Devin to call off the plans for that evening.  Leigh, Beth, Devin and I had planned a 'Ballard Night' which are a lot of fun. 

Later in the morning, after Mrs Laurnen's visit, mom called again.  Kuper was better.  So I again texted Devin and let him know that 'Ballard Night' was still a 'go'. 

Then mom called again, right around 2pm.  Kuper had taken a turn for the worse.  She was going to call the vet and make the appointment for tomorrow. 

After texting Devin a third time, we put the bikes on the back of Leigh's car and  set off for Anacortes.  There was an atypical small traffic jam just prior to the ferry landing where one of the more famous Anacortes residents used to live, but we made it just in time to ride the bikes directly on the ferry,

Earlier in the day, Leigh had gone for a 70 minute run.  Now she was facing a 10 mile bike ride.  Her legs were pretty much toast as we biked out to the house.  Then it started to rain.  Though tired, she was smiling and muscled through it.

We got to the house about 7 and Leigh immediately set to making a very nice dinner.  She's amazing that way.

All the planning over the last several weeks came together.  I had built a box a few months ago and carved Kuper's name in it.  Mom had Louis dig a hole a few weeks ago in preparation for the inevitable. 

The vet arrived and with great compassion Kuper passed peacefully.  He was no longer in pain struggling for breath.  He relaxed.

We buried him in a nice spot with a nice view.

In short order we were back on the ferry headed towards Anacortes.  As we drove away from the ferry landing, we again encountered the small atypical traffic jam.  Sometimes you recognize an event that simply happens once and you need to decide if you want to go or not.  Leigh said let's go.

So we parked and  walked in to the 'Burl Ives' estate sale.

In 1989 Burl Ives was 80 when he left California and moved to Anacortes.  At the time he said the climate was too dry in California and he could get more for his money in Washington state.  He passed in '95, but his wife Dorothy lived until last year.  They lived in a 7 bedroom house perched above Guemes Channel.

Walking into the house was a little creepy.  You could tour the whole house - master bed room and bathrooms and all.  Make up and other toiletries were still there.  Creepy.  Mr. Ives died in that house.  Creepy.

Even the art.

You decide. 

The garden was nice.  Mr Ives had mobility problems.  Meaning without his scooter, he wasn't very mobile.  So the garden had nice pathways so he could get around.

Even his clothes, all custom, were on sale.

We ended up buying a silver serving piece, a first edition book, and a champagne glass etched with a stylized 'B'.   When you go to one of the Hollywood type sales, you need to be prepared to pay top dollar for these prized possessions.  Just last night I threw a dinner party and filled the silver piece with peanuts.  I was casually able to name drop and inform my guests that Burl Ives once used this very same serving dish.  My guests were very impressed.  One looked at it with reverence and said "Burl Ives' had his nuts in there too?".

In any case, I thought the princely sum of $5.00 was worth it.  That was the total for all that we bought.   It was half off day.  And If you're under 35, you haven't a clue who Burl Ives was. 

On the other hand, Kuper was well remembered in the cards to my mom.

E BIKE FUN

After a long period of deliberation, I bought an E Bike.  An electric bike.  With a removable lithium battery driving a 750 watt electric engine.  It goes 0 to 60 in, well, it doesn’t go 60.  It doesn’t go 40.  With pedaling, I can maintain nearly 20 mph, which is ok for a guy my age.  The average tour de France speed is around 26 mph over the 3 week period so I figure being able to maintain 17 – 20 is OK for me.

It's a RadCity from Rad Power bikes.

For exercise, the electric bike isn’t as good as a real bike.  But it’s a heck of a lot better than driving a car.  And it’s way more fun.  The bike has 5 power assist levels to kick in when you pedal.  It also has 7 gears for pedaling, along the lines of a conventional bike.  The learning curve is pretty short on how to manage the two, but I expect it will take a long time to really optimize the combination beween pedal and power.  

There’s also a button.  When depressed, the throttle is activated and you can use the engine without pedaling.

This is not a rocket ship by any stretch of the imagination.  Primarily it’s an ‘assist’ when you pedal.  The throttle does come in handy when a more spirited start in traffic is desired.   Or starting uphill.  The downside is the power drain.

The essential tradeoff is between the pedaling and engine power.  Battery life is finite.  The less you use it, the longer it lasts. 

As I write, I’ve put 150 miles on the bike.  From relatively short 7 mile bursts on the Burke Gilman to longer Bellevue to Ballard rides across I-90 and one 26 mile ride from Ballard to the hill above Renton.  I’m getting to know the strategies involved with each type of trip.  For the 7 mile commute, it’s all about speed.  No worries about battery life, use the assist with relative abandon and go for it.  The only limitation is safety and certainly on the Burke, you can go too fast.  With this bike I am trying to find a Burke / surface street combination that works.  Faster on the streets (albeit slower than cars) and prudently slower on the Burke.  I don’t want to be ‘that guy’ giving E Bikes a lousy reputation. 

When I do the 7 mile burst, I can use power assist levels 3,4, and 5 and really scoot.  The exercise value is less as I use the battery more.   

For the longer trips, I use power assist level 1 and 2.  Yes, it’s slower – but on the 26 mile ride to Renton, I had about 20% of the battery remaining.  Had I used the higher assist levels, the battery would have died somewhere shy of my destination.

Earlier this week I biked 11 miles from Bellevue to Renton.  There’s a great combination of bike trails and quiet streets that connect the two towns and I was able to ride the 11 miles in about 40 or 45 minutes and while I did get exercise and huffed and puffed a bit, I kept it just below breaking out in a sweat.  We went out to dinner that night and I biked in street clothes and arrived feeling pretty fresh and ready for dinner. 

The 18 mile rides back home are fun and interesting.  Following 108^th in Bellevue to the I90 Eastgate bridge, you cross Mercer Island and get out onto the MI floating bridge.  The new one.  The old one sank.  Here’s where the power assist comes in handy.   Climbing up over the I90 lid on Mercer Island and climbing up the western slope of the bridge take some pumping on a conventional bike.  I’ve done that.  With the power assist, it’s relatively easy and much, much faster.   Especially right at the end of the bridge with the sharp hill that goes to the pedestrian / bike tunnel above the car tunnel.  Easy.

The only sketchy part of the trip is after dropping down on Dearborn there’s a short 2 block section requiring either a stint on the sidewalk or getting full on into traffic, migrating from the far right hand bike lane to cross 2 lanes of traffic to set up for a left hand turn on to Jackson.  Here, the power really comes in handy as I can match the speed of the cars. 

There’s another, less intuitive way for bikes which avoids this problem and I’ll try that next time.

After dropping down to the Seattle waterfront, it gets interesting with all the construction, but they’ve done a fair job keeping the bike path separate.  After clearing Pier 70, it’s a breeze.  The Sculpture park morphs into Centennial park and for over a mile there are no cars and the bike path is separate from the pedestrian path.  All this right on the waterfront with glorious views. 

The path takes a 90 degree right hand turn at Smith Cove then meanders through the BN train yard at interbay.  Completely caged in, the trail goes right along then over the train tracks and exits near Magnolia.  From here you drop down onto Commodore way,  paralleling the southern side of the ship canal.  At the locks you need to dismount the bike and walk it across the locks and just like that you are in Ballard.  Fun commute.

So far the E bike has been great.  It’s Thursday and I haven’t touched the car since Sunday night.  I signed up to use a bike facility at work.  $25 a month and I get to use an enclosed ‘cage’ with a bike rack.  There are showers and towel service as well.  Perfect. 

JANUARY WIND STORM

Ben and his young daughter had a rough ride on the ferry.  Winds were 25 knots and building.  On the way home to Friday Harbor, thankful to be off the bouncing ferry, they were just about to turn left onto Spring street. In front was the huge elm tree lit with thousands of holiday lights.  His daughter had just commented how beautiful they were.  Just then they blinked once.  And went out.  Dark.  As was the entire town.

Unknown to them at the time, at the very moment they were admiring the lights, a tree had taken out the power lines on the Roleau Road, some 9 miles away.  The power to the Roche Harbor substation had been severed serving the entire northern part of San Juan Island.  For reasons that were, according to Bob Belcher of Olpaco, not understood even several days later, the power outage cascaded back towards town and even took out Lopez Island for a while.  “It’s not supposed to work that way” Bob said.

The wind was building that Tuesday night.  The Fraser River Valley in British Columbia serves as a funnel when low pressures are positioned off the Washington coast.  Air flows from high pressure areas to lows and on this winter evening there was a high above the Canadian plains and a low parked off the Washington coast.  Perfect set up for a classic Fraser River blast.  They don’t happen often and the wind, combined with the cold, made for an impressive winter storm on the lonely northeast shores of San Juan Island.

Mom doesn’t like the wind.  Especially the Fraser River winds.  She’s right in their path and when they hit, they hit hard.

The house dryer wasn’t working and she bundled up taking her laundry to the guest cabin dryer.  In the howling wind she watched in awe as waves dashed against the point protecting what was locally known as ‘Kosin’s cove’.  Igor Kosin, an immigrant from Vladivostok Russia, had built a small cabin above the point in the the late 50’s.  The waves pounded the point, spray shooting high into the air.  Rare for these waters.

Back in the house, Mom decided to sleep down stairs.  A fir tree, over 100 feet high with a 7 foot trunk in diameter grew on the bank.  Directly in line with the wind.  The arborist had deemed it a strong tree in good shape, but if it fell, it could hit the house.

Her decision to go downstairs coincided with Ben and his daughter getting off the ferry.  When the tree fell on Roleau Road, the house went dark.  The auxiliary fireplace upstairs wasn’t working, so in addition to no light, she had no heat.  Considering her options, she went downstairs to bed to wait out the storm.

We don't know how strong the wind was that night.  50? 60?  Later Ben said from his place it sounded like a freight train.  His house shook and he thought some of the gusts may have hit 70.

At some point during the storm, she heard a loud “thump”.  Perhaps something had hit the deck.  In the darkness she couldn’t be sure.  It could have been at that very moment the mysterious duck met his demise, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Morning finally arrived and mercifully the power was on.  All seemed to be normal.

Coffee was made, and she waited for Chris to arrive.  Chris was putting the final touches on the new dryer installation.  As usual, any new appliance doesn’t quite fit and the dryer it replaced was a rare side vent requiring some engineering for the new dryer.

There was a knock at the door.  Chris at arrived.  With news.  “Have you looked outside?” was his opening comment.  Mom hadn’t looked outside.  She hadn’t noticed that a fir tree, over 100 feet tall, and growing right next to the guest cabin had fallen.  Taking with it a very proud cedar tree.   The Fir’s root ball was huge.  Some 12 feet in diameter.  Perhaps ‘plate’ would be a better description of how the roots spread out from the trunk.

When the tree went over, it could have up ended the small guest cabin.  It didn’t.  It could have fallen on the main cabin, crushing the guest cabin.  It didn’t.   The roots could have damaged the septic tank.  They didn’t.  The tree could have taken the half century old tree house.  It didn’t.  So tall, it could have damaged the work shop, but when it fell, it took with it a stockier cedar tree that cushioned the drop.  The tip slapped the workshop with no damage.  A professional tree cutter couldn’t have dropped it any better than the wind.  Dad, did you have something to do with that?

The only thing the tree did when it fell was to stress the power lines.  They held, but the power pole didn’t.  It leaned over under the weight pressing on the lines.  The power to the cabins held.  Amazing.

The was one casualty.   A frozen duck was found just to the side of where the tree fell.  What was it doing in a tree at the height of the storm?  It was intact, but had a wound on it’s side.  Damage from the tree?  Perhaps an eagle had gotten to it earlier?

The only damage to the house came from the wind itself.  A few roofing tiles were in the yard.  The roof, just over 20 years old, was showing its age and had lost a few tiles in the wind.  It was slowly delaminating, adding to the summer’s list of things to fix.

I got up to the island one day later.  Mom had mobilized a few folks to check the tree out as well as the nearly downed power lines.  I caught the 6:20am boat and was at the house for sunrise just shy of 8am Thursday morning.

Chris was the first to arrive, with the final (final) touches to the vent.  After announcing he had to return to town for a couple of screws, I introduced him to the workshop.  Finding appropriate screws in the workshop is usually easy.  It was.

The crew from Opalco was next and took the power line from under the tree and replaced it over the tree.  Once the tree was taken out, they would have to come back and straighten the power pole.

Then the guys arrived to fix the fireplace.  Finally.  A part had been ordered, lost, ordered again but used on a different job, and now, two months later, was finally being fixed.  They couldn’t quite get it all to work, but with the pilot light lit, the fireplace was functioning.  Their van, however wasn’t.  It had died the previous day and needed a jump.  The company owner arrived in his truck, but didn’t have cables.  A van and a big truck both without jumper cables.  We had a couple of sets hanging in the workshop.

Casey arrived to take a look at the tree, but quickly determined his skill set wasn’t really needed — it was more of a clean up job.  Mom called Ben who roared out and assessed what it’d take to clean the mess up.  Then Buzz arrived to checkout the Cedar tree.  There may be good wood in there to re-use.

It ended up being a full day.  I raked and cleaned up the debris in the parking area.  After all the comings and goings, the day slowly wound down.  I prepared two manhattans as mom got salmon burgers ready.  A good day.

The following morning I went to take sunrise pictures of the downed tree.  I tried to get a shot of the downed duck, but the frozen carcass was gone.  Carried away by a fox perhaps?  An Eagle?  The demise of the duck was as mysterious as its departure.

A COLD WINTER CRUISE

The new Henry Island Pavilion

Christmas had come and gone, new years was just around the corner and the weather wasn’t terrible.  Not great, but the forecast called for 5 to 15 knot southerlies for a few days turning to northerlies at the tail end of the new years weekend.

A nice set up for a run from Seattle up to the island for a few days.  Rain, perhaps some snow, and cold.  But southerlies up and northerlies down.  Let’s do it.

Wednesday late afternoon we motored the short distance up to Kingston.  Friends Andy and Jill had already arrived and after appetizers with them, we mosied up to the Mossback Cafe.  The Cafe is about 3 blocks from the Marina and is housed in a 100 year old farm house.  They focus on locally sourced foods and their menu changes quite frequently.   I had the rabbit and sausage strada.  Excellent.  Leigh had the noodle bowl: Hand rolled ramen noodles, Silver Creek Angus top round steak, bone and miso broth, shiitake mushrooms, bok choy, chili oil, sweet onion, black sesame and cilantro.  It was only lukewarm when served but that was resolved quickly and the flavors were great.

Kingston’s light display is terrific and must be a source of local pride.  The water front park is full of wonderful lit displays.

Andy and Jill came over for a night cap and we chatted about heading north.  The forecast called for possible Northerlies on Friday and they had planned to meet some friends in Mystery Bay.  This would lock the route up the outside and as we wanted a couple of days in the islands, my preference was for the more protected route up the east side of Whidbey.  We each executed our plans.

Thursday morning we left Kingston and in short order had the jib up and engine off.  With  strong southerly pushing us we surfed waves and at one point hit a current assisted 10 knots.  Up Saratoga passage the wind faltered slightly so we powered up to maintain speed.

After a good day on the water and in failing light we arrived at cornet bay and tied to one of the docks in the bay.  Secure for the night we enjoyed the chicken I had smoked the previous day.

Deception pass was ebbing Friday morning with the slack at 9:40.  We cheated a little and were off the dock about 8:30. After hoisting the mainsail, we the pass about 15 minutes later.  With Leigh at the helm we had a fun time of it hitting 11 knots at one point.

The wind was blowing in Rosario Strait.  More than I had anticpated.  We rounded up and I threw a couple of reefs in the main.  Perfect.

Cambria is a sailboat but with the protected cockpit we can run her like a motorsailor.  With the engine on, we can generate heat, much appreciated on this late December day.  With two reefs in the main, she stays on her feet but doesn’t roll.  The motion is pretty comfortable in a seaway.  Most of the time. The big wave didn’t hit until the way back, but on this westbound crossing of Rosario, all was well.

She was heading south in Rosario Strait.  Nice Romsdal Trawler

We ducked into Lopez sound and dodged crab pots up to Spencer Spit where we squeezed through the passage between Frost Island and the spit.   Approaching Harney pass we had a close encounter with a washington state ferry, but thanks to AIS, we were well set up for it.   A ferry we couldn’t see was coming around Upright head, but I could see him on AIS (on my phone) and anticipated the crossing.  Yet another reason to install AIS on Cambria.

We pulled into Deer Harbor with the full intent of staying there.  When I had talked to the Marina, they had confirmed the Deer Harbor in was open.  My father used to go to the Inn in the late 40’s when he was a camp counselor on Orcas.  As a family we would go over there in the 60’s.  I wanted to show Leigh the Inn.   But when we walked up there, it was ‘closed for the winter’.  Dang.  On the walk back to the boat we made the snap decision to go to Roche.  We had about 2 hours of day light left and we could just barely make it.

Leigh prepared the boat for departure and I obtained a refund for the moorage.  All good.

When we were well into San Juan channel I gave my mother a call.  The family house has a nice view of San Juan channel.  She had no idea we were in the islands as our plans sort of evolved and weather gets a strong vote in the itinerary.  We had aimed to get up to the islands, but I didn’t want to raise expectations that we’d actually make it.  This is winter after all and some gale force winds were forecasted.

When I called, I enquired about the view.  She said it was nice.  She hadn’t looked.  I then asked ‘any boats out front’. She said there was one speed boat.  She hadn’t noticed us.  After more prompting the gig was up.  She saw us and arrangements were made for breakfast the following morning.  She did let us know she was having a small gathering for Buzz and Pam that evening. It was their wedding anniversary and they were going to have appetizers then Buzz and Pam were going over to Roche Harbor for a nice dinner.

Sunset in Speiden Channel

Passing through Speiden Channel, we noticed the sunset lit up Speiden Island.  With about 30 minutes of sunlight left, we veered over to the Speiden side and saw various exotic deer left over from the ill conceived ‘Safari Island’ escapade in the 70’s.  We’ve removed 3 of the deer from our beach in the past 40 something years, the most recent one was a fallow deer earlier this year providing a great feast for the bald eagles.

Roche Harbor at night

Decorations in the bar at Roche

Pulling into Roche we felt dwarfed by the 80 something foot power yachts on both sides, but snug and secure we went up to the Restaurant bar for what we thought were just going to be appetizers.  We conspired with the waitress to buy wine for Pam and Buzz who had yet to arrive and our appetizers morphed into dinner followed by 2 desserts.  One for ourselves and the other with Buzz and Pam.

The aftermath of the last dessert

Saturday morning we walked over to the house for breakfast and visited with Mom and Kuper the Havenese dog.  Kuper has congestive heart failure and has had some tough episodes recently.  Breakfast was great and we got a lift from Mom back to the marina.

Early in the afternoon we cast off the lines, spun the boat and headed ‘all the way’ to Henry island.  A 12 minute voyage.  The wind was blowing and owing to work on the docks we took second choice on the dock.    Jill and Andy arrived with Porter and Magnus in tow and the first order of business was to start a fire in the new Pavilion built earlier this summer.   The Pavilion is a great addition to the outstation.  We shared appetizers while Leigh took charge of the boys for about 45 minutes. Jill’s relaxation was evident at being temporarily relieved of ‘mom duty’ and Leigh recalled how wonderful it was when others used to do that for her.

The fire in the new pavilion

ghosts?

Henry was a great setting for the transition to a new year.  A little off the beaten path, it was just us.  Randy and Becky, the caretakers, had their own celebration in the house, leaving the new pavilion to us.  A nice fire, and great company.

We cranked up a nice steak dinner and dined aboard the cozy confines of Cambria.  Opening a bottle of bubbly we celebrated and then retired well prior to the actual new year.

The night was a bit bouncy and Sunday morning’s gale warnings came true.  With the wind blowing Cambria away from the dock, departure was a little dicey.  Rather than until the lines then leap aboard from a heaving dock onto a fast retreating boat, we retied with lines led back to the boat.  With both of us safely on the boat, we were able to release the lines as the wind immediately took us away from the dock.  In the lee of Pearl we hoisted a double reefed main and headed out into what was to be a very windy day.

Winding through the islands wasn’t bad.  I had decided to exit the islands through Obstruction Pass and then head down wind across Rosario as opposed to exiting via Thatcher pass and taking it on the beam.

All went well at first, but then we hit some tidal action in combination with 30 to 35 knot winds.  I saw a large set of waves but then hesitated.  Head into them or away from them?  I usually don’t hesitate at such stuff.  But there wasn’t much time and my momentary hesitation had us beam on to a nice, large set of waves.  Despite the steadying sail we rolled fairly violently and two cupboards down below spewed their contents onto the salon floor.  A set of glassware vaulted out and exploded.  The books cascaded down off the bookshelf.  An orderly boat was reduced to chaos in a couple of minutes.

Indy, in the cockpit was having no fun.  His worried, penetrating eyes seemed to say “are you sure you know what you’re doing”?

We took other big waves a little more elegantly but spray washed over the boat completely obliterating forward visibility.

After we had crossed into the relative calm of Guemes island, Leigh undertook the effort of glass clean up and vacuumed.  Then I set the bookshelf right and in about 30 minutes order had been restored.

We lined up on Swinomish channel and headed down the slough past La Conner.

Once out of the slough we again headed south and debated Coupeville or Langley.  We would have arrived at Langely in the dark but Coupeville docks were less protected.  Coupeville was closer.  And Leigh had some old friends who could meet us there.

From the pier at Coupeville

Downtown Coupeville

Coupeville.  We took the inside of the dock with the wind trying its best to keep us off the dock.  I missed my first approach, but modified it for the second pass.  With a fair amount of speed I angled up to the dock running parallel then hit hard reverse and Leigh jumped to the dock with appreciated agility.  By pre-arrangement she had the spring line and made it fast to a cleat allowing me to power against it holding the boat into the dock with only the spring line attached.  It worked.  We wrestled the boat closer and then tied double lines fore and aft in addition to the spring lines.

Another boat, a Spindrift 43 was trying to come in single handed.  He had just rescued his boat from being aground, blown ashore by the gale force winds.  We helped him secure his boat then headed up the restaurant for a well deserved beer with Leigh’s friends.

After a bumpy night we headed south on our final day.  The morning was gorgeous and despite reports of high winds in the islands, we experienced calm weather.  Cold, but calm.

We motor sailed most of the way but finally the wind filled in and much to Leigh's relief, we sailed the final 10 miles.  

Coming back into the slip, Leigh used Kristen's method of snagging the first cleat on the dock from the stern of the boat.  It's a slick way of getting the spring line under control and with that, I can power against it if needed to hold the boat to the dock.  In relative short order, the boat was tied up, power cord attached, and the TV/internet cable attached.  Navigation shut down, inverter switched to 'charger only' and like that, home was home.  

Shortly after we docked, there was a knock on the hull.  A neighbor who I had not met on an adjacent dock introduced himself and handed me a picture he had taken of Cambria.   He said he enjoyed the view of my lights from his stern.  It was an appreciated gesture and between the trip and the gift of the picture, the decision to live aboard received more exclamation points.  

A very nice way to start the new year.