Sailing, August 25, 2017

      We were set in the water by the travel lift last Monday, August 14. Today is Thursday, August 24th, which puts us ten days on the water. We would be in Canada now but only made it as far as Friday Harbor in the San Juan Islands. On last Saturday as we were pulling up anchor our windlass broke down on us. Since the anchor is attached to 50 meters of chain and we still had 20 more meters to haul out of the water as well as a 50 lb. anchor we were a bit frantic for a few moments. Luckily Mike had thought about just such a situation arising and once it was established that the darn windlass was really useless, he got busy jerry rigging a system using two mooring lines and one of the large winches we use for the fore sail. It took an hour or so to haul chain and anchor in but the system did the work for us. I’m happy to say, neither one of us had a back ache the next day. I was surprised to observe how happy Mike seemed throughout this episode. I guess it makes sense, after all. In the face of this little crisis there was a quick solution to be tried out in the real world in the face of dire circumstances.

             That following Sunday, Mike spent the day taking apart the windlass to see if he could figure out what was wrong. It wasn’t an electrical failure but a mechanical one. Some of the gears were completely gone, ground to a fine powder. The windlass is 26 years old and maybe it’s time had come to up and break. On Monday we headed back to Port Townsend to await new parts that he ordered using his cell phone as we crossed the Strait of Juan de Fuca. It was a very calm day on the strait. It was also the day of the eclipse of which we noticed only a small difference in the amount of sunshine but very much noticed a drop in temperature. 

         We are still waiting for parts to arrive but decided to leave marina land in Port Townsend and anchor in Scow Bay, across from Port Townsend. We had a lovely evening, after a short sail up to Admiralty Inlet then a third of the way down Port Townsend Bay to Kilisut Harbor, between Indian and Morrowstone Islands. The wind picked up that night and since we were using our secondary anchor, (only 25 lbs, and on a rope) and the wind blew straight down the harbor to the little bay we anchored in; it was a rather sleepless night for Mike. He was up three times making sure the anchor was not dragging which would have allowed us to drift into too shallow water and the shore. The following day was a “take it easy” one, reading aloud a mystery we both enjoy. We did some minor repairs using epoxy where the wood had torn off on the bowsprit when the windlass was removed. Our day in Scow Bay was restful, sunny, even hot for an hour or so, but we decided to check the forecast for wind that night. The wind was supposed to do the same thing it had done the night before. We decided to try our luck in the smaller and more protected Mystery Bay. Our moving the boat to the smaller bay payed off; we slept very peacefully last night even though the wind was blowing again.

         Today I varnished the spots on the bowsprit we had repaired with epoxy, having also lost varnish when the bowsprit was being taken apart. 

Saturday, August 26, 2017

             We rowed in our new little dinghy up to the general store in the late afternoon yesterday and were surprised to find a little postoffice there as well. Mike has been busy in between boat sailing and a broken windlass, mailing copies of his book; interviews of people from a farm cooperative in Guatemala, off to people who helped him with it’s 

conception in some capacity or other. By five he had another fifteen books addressed and ready to go. We’d thought it would have to wait for our return to Port Townsend but this morning we rowed back up the bay and mailed them from a tiny postoffice. Rowing around in the dinghy I like to imagine what it used to be like for folks before automobiles and motor boats. The pace was definitely slower from what we are used to. Sailing slows down life also. At first it takes some getting used to. Once accustomed to the change it is charring at first to move back on land.