Today is a great day to not go sailing!

60+ MPH winds at Angel Island, gusting up to the high 80's? Nah, no thanks!

Hooray for new dock lines.

This winter was mild -- I only broke a few dock lines and snapped one snubber. Geez Pier 39 is a great marina :/

I got new 1" dock line that I'll be putting on next week which will hopefully last a year at that spot. I'm hoping for some warmer weather so that I can get out there and clean out the fuel system and do a little painting. The boat looks like crap, and it's all my fault. So, along with Pier 39, I'm sort of lousy too. Bah.

Wintertime

I did a check on the boat a couple days ago and was pleased to see that the rain hasn't mildewed anything so far this year, although I did snap a dock line while I was out of town. Thanks to Pier 39 for replacing it for me.

I did run the engine for a bit and noticed it was hard to start an even after idling for a little while I couldn't rev the engine without it stalling, so I guess it's time to rebuild the carb, check the fuel, and maybe put in some new plugs. Sitting there doing nothing tends to make this engine unhappy sometimes. The elements conspire against it. I was just searching for newplugs online and found this write-up which I thought made a pretty good case for the atomic four. Here.

Happy new year.

All tucked in...

The boat is great. I stopped by yesterday to run the engine for a bit (started right up) and double up the docklines in preparation for the rougher months. Going to have a haul-out and survey done soon where I'll get chided for not having a working blower (it works if you hit it with a wrench!) but other than that, no news.

How to replace a $5 belt.

My alternator belt broke. Big whoop. A trip to Krager has me all set with a new one. Go to loosen the bolt on the alternator... and it snaps off, leaving 75% of the bolt still in the threads on the alternator. Okay, fine. So I take the whole alternator off, and break a few drill bits drilling out the broken bolt and come up with a new through-bolting system that works better than new. And while I was at it, I made a mounting bracket for the big Racor fuel filter I put in but only mounted half-assed. I decide to clean out the filter -- another five minute job. Or not. The thing was wrenched on so tight at the factory that I can't open the drain plug, and can't unscrew the housing without the aid of an oil-filter wrench -- which holed the filter. And since I can't get the housing assembly apart, I end up havinfg to buy a new fuel filter altogether. Finaly tally: Replacing a $5 belt cost me about $125 and two days of work.

However, I ended up spending last night anchored at Treasure Island. This morning I inflated the dinghy and rowed ashore and took a nice walk before heading back under the bay bridge for home. The engine must have known how much trouble I put into it as it purred like a kitten each time I used it.

Still not dead.

I have gone sailing three times this week. The first two times (Saturday and Sunday) it was really windy. Reefed-main-only windy. I should have just accepted two awesome days and not pushed my luck.

It blew so hard yesterday that I could barely control the boat. Here is what the wind map looked like: this.

The day started out warm, sunny, and comfortable. I left the dock at about 10:30, using a new technique of shoving off that is much more controlled than my usual back up and spin around method. It's sort of a bobsled push with the tiller tied hard over to counter the strong current. It worked well. I was happy. I put up all sail and went down the waterfront to pier 40, where I docked up and went to Red's for lunch. Then I took back off again and noticed that the wind was mostly mellow, but with occasional gusts that kept me from putting the main back up. I cruised down to Alameda, where the wind died and shipping was going in and out heavily, so I spun around and headed for home. I barely had enough wind to get under the bay bridge, and then all hell broke loose. A fresh breeze came up, and I had to tack out of the way of a container ship, and then the wind REALLY started blowing. Single handing Star Splitter is enough work, but with that much wind it's all but impossible. Swells started breaking over the deck and I was getting gusts will into the 30's. The shock of one of the gusts caused my mizzen to snap it's boom topping lift. I couldn't tack on account of the strength of the wind and the large swells that would check my progress before I could get the bow across, and I couldn't get the mizzen in enough to risk a jibe, so with no other options to choose from, I just put the old girl on her beam ends and fairly shot across the bay to the lee of Angel Island. My plan was to anchor and wait for the wind to settle. Once I got there and put on some dry clothes (even with my foulies I was soaked to the bone) and pulled in my mizzen and secured the boom, I decided to just race back the other way and hide in the shadow of pier 45 to pull down the jib and then motor into the marina.

R2D2, my little autopilot, is worth it's weight in gold. I set a course for the marina and that little sucker tracked it, despite the huge swells and us spending half the trip at well more than a 45 degree tilt. It gave me a chance to hide in the companionway and get warm. I shot past the nose of pier 45 at about six knots into a perfect calm. I yanked down the headsail and fired up the engine and circled around back into the wind to motor up to the marina. And here is where I get to illustrate the force of that much breeze: I couldn't motor upwind. My first attempt was a near disaster. I got upwind of pier 45 and started to turn and the wind just shoved me off course, even with the engine going full throttle. I had to slam into reverse to keep my bow from being smashed to pieces on the corner of pier 45 as we went hurtling sideways downwind. I seriously considered putting the jib back up and heading to pier 40's guest dock, but gave it one more try. I motored upwind carefully, never presenting the wind a chance to spin me to one side or other and nosed right up against the sea wall. Once I got the where I could reach out and touch it, I turned and motored at top speed along it's lee, and then spun into the marina (where it was gusting like crazy, so I had to keep the speed up) and into the slip. I noticed that the coast guard had their RIBs tied up at the pump-out station. I guess they were tied of trying to fight it out too.

Things I learned: 1) Jib-only (unreefed) is good up to gusts of about 35 kts. The boat shook like a wet dog a couple times and I saw the lee standing rigging hanging almost slack a couple times which scared the hell out of me, as if I would have lost the stick I would have lost my VHF capability to call for help. I probably would have wrecked on Treasure Island before anyone could have come to my aid anyhow. Anyway, jib-only worked well. I could have reefed or hanked on my storm jib, but I made it as comfortably as could be expected, so I guess it was okay. 2) Commercial shipping guys aren't just trying to run you down. One container ship altered course, I am almost certain, to avoid me. They came under the gate, and looked to be heading for the Charley/Delta span, but instead went under Alpha/Bravo and then turned to head to Oakland. Another ship on it's way out came close to check me out and got within maybe 300' and then turned out to sea. I demonstrated my inability to tack out of their way and they were kind in not asking for a more painful/expensive demonstration.

I go to Maui tomorrow. Hopefully I can find a boat to charter for a day there :-)

Weather

For those of you who aren't in the San Francisco o bay area, let me tell you, the weather here has been depressing. Normally the winter isn't so bad. It rains, but it doesn't get all that cold. Well this year I have been hailed on twice and it's been in the mid 30's at night and raining now for what seems to be... forever. In 10 days it rained enough for my dinghy to have filled with water to the gunwhale -- completely full. Those of you from Seattle might say I'm a big whiner, but look at Seattle's suicide rate. Yes, I acknowledge that they aren't exactly whining, but I think it also says they enjoy this miserable shit about as much as I do. Selah.

So anyway, I woke up two mornings ago at 8:00 AM, dreaming that I was out sailing. I decided that, fuck it, I was going sailing, rain or no rain. And I did. And you know what -- I had nothing but sunny and warm from the time I left the dock to the time that I tied back up and got the sail covers back on. From 12:00 to 5:00 my boat was warm and dry, the winds were good,ht ere was little traffic on the bay (aside from some huge military boat that pushed both myself and a tug (with a tow) out of the shipping lane that we all know as the San Francisco Bay. Thank god for VTS, by the way. VTS, or in longhand, Vessel Traffic Services is a service on channel 14 where all large ships check in an announce their departures and routes. When I saw the military behemoth clear under the Golden Gate and turn right for me, I decided to turn on the radio and was delighted to hear that I was going to be right in his way. That sounds sarcastic, but it isn't -- I'd much rather know where he's going than to guess back and forth, never knowing if I'm turning the right way to get more out of his way, or if I'm just getting into more trouble. The military ship was going to pier 15, which I wouldn't have ever guessed, which is a pretty unusual destination for a ship this size, and I would have been nervous running for the cityfront only to see that he was going there too. When you're on a little wooden boat and some 300 foot tall steel warship seems to be chasing you down and you don't know their intention, and they just keep turning more and more in your direction, you're pretty sure you're going to die. Thanks to VTS, I didn't have any of that.

No, my tension came when I couldn't get the engine to run to get back to the dock. And as I bobbed around, comfortable in the fact that I knew there was nothing close that I had to worry about and had all the time in the world, well, that's when the police showed up. When you're engine doesn't run and the police are trying to make small talk with you because they're bored, it turns tense. You just want to be left alone to work on the problem, not talk about who built your boat, or any of the other conversation that I'd normally be more than happy to have. The guy sat next to me for 15 minutes, chatting away, which made me chat back in as friendly a fashion as possible as he just ignored that I was busy trying to solve what I considered a more pressing item. Eric, who took the photo I'm going to put up with this post (he was the other sailboat out there that day) called me from the dock to ask why the cops where bothering me. I explained that my engine wasn't running and he said he'd be out there in one minute to tow me back in. He's a good man, that Eric. Then the engine started, the cop left, I called Eric back to say, "Don't put your keys away yet, but don't cast off, either." Sure enough, that little engine decided that it had enough fun at my expense and sprang to life and it was one of the easiest times I've ever had docking a boat.

I've got projects though:

1) The blower is on-again, off-again. Currently it's not working. I think the winter weather combined with it just sitting in place causes it to seize. If I smack it with a hammer, it starts up again. It might need to be replaced.

2) The transmission is spongy. Without even looking, I know the problem. The shifter cable is mounted to a rather tired piece of wood, and the wood is moving when I shift. This will cause me to not have the ability to shift in and out of gear if it doesn't get fixed. I think some epoxy ought to fix the issue nicely.

3) More varnish, obviously.

I also picked up a radio transmitter for my iPod. The stereo has no line-in jack, and the CD player is temperamental, so now I just broadcast my iPod on 88.5 and tune the stereo to that and blast music throughout the boat. It's amazing what you can do with 12 volts some days.