We Live On A Boat

A funny thing happened after we got the boat home. Instead of spending every waking moment there, like we thought we would, we actually spent less time with the boat. It just seemed that once the boat was safe home and nearby that we had other things to do. After all, the boat was so close now – “we’ll go there later” seemed like something we were saying all the time. Mind you, we still did a lot of sailing just not as much as we had planned.

The one big trip we took that first summer was to the 40 year Alberg reunion in Whitby, Ontario. That’s about 37 nautical miles away, past Pickering where we had come from. The trip there was relatively uneventful, with light airs (lights winds) and smooth water. We really enjoyed the sail down. We were running downwind so we were able to tie the sails off wing on wing (that means the jib on one side of the boat and the main on the other.) This makes for a level deck and also the ability to balance the sails so the tiller can be tied off and the boat just sails itself. We did this for much of the trip, allowing us to spend time together sitting up at the bow of the boat and I even got to wash the decks down while underway. Eventually, a couple of miles out we had to start the engine and motor as the wind had dropped off. We had a great time there – met lots of great people and got to see lots of wonderful Albergs. The Great Lakes Alberg Association includes all the Alberg line of boats, the 22, 29, 30 and 37. It is really a truly vibrant community.

The Saturday evening weather forecast for Sunday was not good. Winds and rain were predicted so a number of the boats left Saturday night for a night sail home. We should have do that too. Sunday morning we awoke late to find that most of the boats with any distance to sail were already gone and that the day was gray and stormy. The Alberg is built for this type of weather so we did not worry about the boat – however, the sailors were not built as sturdy. When we got out of the Whitby harbour we found 6 foot waves and a lot of wind. On top of that we had rain – lots of it.

About half a mile out of the harbour, I made the bad decision to go down below to take readings from the map to set into the handheld GPS unit. I had never been seasick before so I did not expect it. Within about two minutes of being down below I was about to blow chunks. I quickly gathered up the maps and GPS and got out on deck but by then the damage had been done. My stomach was upset and I had a massive headache for the rest of the trip. Funny, A. was, I guess, 6 months pregnant at the time so she had an excuse to feel off, I on the other had had no good excuse and was as sick as her. I don’t think that either of us actually lost our lunches but we still both felt really crappy.

To make matters worse, for some reason in my mind we had to set a course that went as directly as possible to our destination. That is fine, except when the seas (waves) prefer you to sail on a slightly different tack (direction) as was the case that day. If I had changed the sailing direction slightly I could have eliminated much of the rolling and pitching which was making us so sick. Then, once we got close to home I could have just changed course to take us directly into harbour. But alas, my inexperience gave us a real lousy trip home.

As a grand finale to that trip, just as we were motoring into the harbour, about 100 meters from the entrance the engine quit. Thank goodness we still had the main sail up. (I was at the mast but had not dropped it yet.) We whipped the boat around and headed away from shore under sail till we could find out what was wrong with the motor. That turned out to be one of the better decisions we made that day. After all the most dangerous thing to a boat out on the water is land. Its made to take the water and wave, but not the dirt. Anyway, the engine would restart but as soon as we put it into gear it would stall out again. As we tried to figure out what was wrong I saw with dismay, one of our bow lines trailing off into the water. Sure enough, we had wrapped the bow line around the prop on the engine. Normally this is disaster as usually the only was to get the line off is to dive under the boat and cut it off. With the boat in 6 to 8 foot waves there was no way I was going to be able to dive for it. However, as we eased the engine from reverse to neutral to forward all the while pulling on the line, low and behold off spun the line and we were free. (I’ve talked to a number sailors that have wrapped lines around props and none have ever had one come free before.) We quickly pointed the boat for home and motored with out event back to our slip. And that was our first major trip and weather on our boat all rolled into one.

Stay tuned for a “Bad Anchor Job”

As we motored away from the docks at Frenchman’s in Pickering, the thought ‘what am I doing here’ entered my mind several times. Earlier in the day the boat had been launched and the mast reinstalled. All this was new to me. The people we had purchased the boat from had helped us every step of the way in preparing the boat for launch. They were wonderfully confident, but of course they had owned and lived on boats for many years. We on the other hand were flying (sailing) by the seat of our pants. Nothing but Book knowledge and the bit of sailing that I had done the previous summer at the sailing club.

The previous owners were an older couple who had purchased Strathgowan (the name of our boat) with the purpose of retiring and sailing down to the Bahamas. However, after a couple of years of owner ship and living aboard they came to the realization that their arthritis was not going to let them pursue this dream. I suppose they could have be upset about that, but we never saw any signs of it. Instead of sailing south, they had purchased a trailer and a new truck and were going to camp their way around North American. They seemed very much ready to get going and I am glad that they were still able to pursue the dream of travel even if it was on dirt.

As we motored up the channel, I looked back to see Ian (previous owner) standing at the end of the docks watching us sail away. He had a pensive, somewhat forlorn look on his face. I’m not sure if he was sad to see his sailboat sailing away or if he was worried about the two obviously inexperienced young people who were heading out onto the water. With one last wave goodbye we were off into Lake Ontario.

The weather was not great, the wind was up a bit, the skies were grey and rainy and the waves were about one meter. Not a great day for us to be sailing alone for the first time. The distance between Pickering and Mississauga is maybe about 25 nautical miles – not that great a distance. However….

A. (my wife) was between three and four months pregnant at the time. Now, the way that the Alberg 30 is designed a person can stand inside the companionway facing outside and when the desire so arises they can simple lean out and let ‘er rip into a bucket sitting on the ledge of the cockpit. Then the person behind the tiller, can grab the bucket, fling it over the side, rinse it out with lakewater and place it back for the next episode. Ah, the joy of sailing one’s own boat.

Sailing with a single reef in the main and a number two jib we arrived home to our new port in about six hours. Even though the trip left a bad taste in A.’s mouth, we still counted it a success, plus now the boat was about 15 mins away from our house. Now we could spend all the time we wanted on her.

Stay tuned for our first big trip and our first big weather all rolled into one.

Everyone should spend a week of bliss in a little cabin on the south side of Lake Superior. Clears the vision, clarifies the mind and gives one time to step back and see the larger picture.

Ah, what a week it was. While the cabin was solar powered, the Swedish steam room was run purely on firewood and water. The heat was a combination of ‘way too hot’ and pure relaxation. The waves lapping on the rocky beach; to bed at sundown, rising again with the sun. I guess one could describe it as the exact opposite of the ‘normal’ work week.

On the way home we decided that the way things were going were far from what we dreamed they should be. We made notes, brainstormed and generally came up with a list of things that we thought we would like to do. We even made up a binder that we called “The Plan”.

Now, one of the things on the list was ‘sail around the world’. Mind you, it was not anywhere near the top of the list. That spot belonged to a little cabin in the woods. (Hmm, I wonder where we came up with that idea.) But, we figured, if at some point in the future we were going to sail around the world, then maybe one of us should learn how to sail. You see, we had never really sailed before. We had gone out for an afternoon sail with a friend once, but that was about it. So off I went to learn how to sail. I took a keel boating course from Humber Sailing School in Etobicoke, Ontario. About 8 hours on the water and maybe the same in the classroom and: tada – you officially know how to sail. Ya, right! I thought I knew how to sail, but now when I look back: oh how little I actually knew! Anyway, after taking the course, I joined the Humber Sailing Club which gave me a chance to get some experience and hours behind the tiller. Sailing every spare minute I managed to get in around 100 hours by the time the season ended.

The bug had me – bit me hard. I loved sailing – not just the peaceful time out on the water, but all the other skills that go along with it. Studying weather, learning how to service an engine, navigation, sail trim, etc. – all new stuff to learn. I spent the off season taking courses, educating myself on all that I could to prepare me for the next sailing season. Of course, by this time I had dreams of being on my own boat.

Somehow I convinced A. that owning a keelboat was the next step in ‘The Plan’. It seems that convincing the better half is a rather common problem among those that want to sail away. I don’t want to give away all my secrets, but it involved buying all the books that I could find on the cruising lifestyle. (The ones written by women, for women are best.) I also might have told her that when I got the sailing bug off my back that we would certainly settle down to that log cabin in the woods. Well, what ever it was, it worked because in December of 2003, we purchased our sailboat – a 1969 Alberg 30.

I was in love. What a boat! She was on the hard (on land) in Pickering, Ontario, a good 45 minute drive from us, but I still would go to just sit and stare at her. Sitting there, looking like she was about to dive into the clouds. I loved the old musty (moldy) smell, combined with the smell of gasoline (leaking gas tank) and old oil (dripping from somewhere underneath). Combine all that with the smell of a dirty bilge – ah, the sweet smell of my own boat – nothing could have been sweeter.

I spent hours there on weekend’s completing some of the jobs that I felt were required to be safe on the water. Of course, The Magazines told me that she was too small to be safe and that it was suicide sailing anywhere without all the latest gadgets and electronics. But, when you can’t afford all the gadgets, they don’t seem to be so necessary. I figured that she had been safe without all that stuff for the previous 35 years, how could she become unsafe just because technology had changed. But still there were some safely issues to be addressed. I changed the chain plates (parts that hold the mast up) and enlarged the cockpit drains (where the water should go if a wave comes into the cockpit.) I also changed a couple of the thru hulls (metal holes below the waterline that are connected to pipes that either allow water in or out) that were not as thick as they used to be. All in all though, she was a thick, hardy and generally safe sailing vessel. (Now that we have owned and sailed her for two years, I believe this even more.)

At this point, we (I) were beginning to entertain thoughts of ‘sailing away’. I’ll admit that I had read one too many of The Magazines and Books and that I was beginning to think that I would need a complete refit before sailing. (I no longer believe this.) So, we went to boat shows and priced out and bought those things that we just felt we could not do without. Things like a handheld VHF, self-inflating life jackets, etc., you know, just the bare essentials. Now I wish that I had spent that money on more important thing; things that would have made us more comfortable. A bimini cover and dodger for instance. But you just have to have a VHF in your hand when sailing, right? And you must have a self-inflating life jacket on at all times, right? Well, here’s the truth. I’ve used the handheld VHF maybe half a dozen times in two years and have only put on the jackets when in rough weather which we normally don’t sail in anyways. The VHF already on the boat would have worked just fine and the Canadian Tire life vest for 40 bucks would have worked just as well and could have provided a butt pad when not in use. Oh well, live and learn. What The Magazines and The Books say you need and what you really need are two very different things!

So that is how we bought our sailboat.

Stay tuned for how we got her home from Pickering to Mississauga.

First post here – a test post. This is the beginning of many great things to come.