For those who don't know, two years ago I planned to sail around the great lakes. I set my goal lower when life set in: to sail to Cape Vincent. I never made it. This year I try again. Here's a link to a map of the trip as planned thus far.
-B.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
Sailing into 2012. Or something like that.
Not much from the home front lately. Dad and I got Cassie's board in, months after we had ordered it and took a day to drill the new hole for the pivot pin and installed the new board. The hole got a little crooked, and we didn't have time to grind out where the shackle fit in. I'm wishing we had taken the time, because when we got it back into the water we found out the board would stick when fully retracted. It had worked fine on land, but the extra buoyancy in the water kept the weight from overcoming the friction. Also, because the pivot hole is larger on one side, the board will flop in the case, only in one direction though, which is annoying more than anything. So far this year I've cut new handrails from Trex composite lumber. The old ones were greyed, and the one had cracked in a couple places. I also pulled the hatch runners. When I did, the screws that had been holding them snapped off because they weren't stainless and had rusted in. The old sealant also flaked off in my fingers, so I think that is where my leak has been coming from. I'm cutting new hatch runners from the trex as well. I have a bookshelf on the drawing board for the space behind my galley table, but don't know if I will have it finished this year. I'm hesitant to spend any more on the boat until I get a new car. I am also debating a number of other non-critical improvements that will make life aboard more pleasant. Turn-buttons on hatches, a flat surface under the sink to store things, a way to convert the port settee into a double bed, the list goes on..
I'm doing my best to get everything together so I can finally sail to Cape Vincent this year. If I don't I will be very upset with myself.
On the bright side, a number of friends have offered to join me sailing this summer, so I shouldn't have to do it alone.
More as it develops.
I'm doing my best to get everything together so I can finally sail to Cape Vincent this year. If I don't I will be very upset with myself.
On the bright side, a number of friends have offered to join me sailing this summer, so I shouldn't have to do it alone.
More as it develops.
Friday, September 2, 2011
A father's day to remember and a Crunch to forget.
So much has happened, and so little at the same time. I've been assistant manager at West Marine for a few months now and am enjoying it quite a bit. I haven't had much time to go sailing lately for a few reasons I will discuss, but first it's story time.
It's a day or two before father's day and the wind is perfect, blowing from the west at ten to fifteen, My dad, sister, and I all have the day off, so we make the trip up to the marina and pile onto Cassandra. The plan is to sail up to the Salmon River, have lunch, and then sail back. It is so much different having three people on the boat that know what they're doing. I was able to ready the outboard while Christine hanked the jib on and Dad sorted our supplies.
We motored out into the lake, Dad took the tiller, and I was able to raise the main and jib myself without worrying about how much the boat was falling off, or whether we were going to jibe and kill myself. We fire up the GPS, point just north of the river mouth, and set the sails. I steer most of the way while Christine is riding in her usual spot in the companionway, and Dad sits on the leeward cockpit seat. I can tell by their smiles that they're both loving it. I think that may be one reason sailing with other people is so much more enjoyable.
Less than an hour later we pull into the mouth of the Salmon River and motor towards the break wall, I drop anchor in two feet of water just as the rudder touches the bottom, we back down on it and pull out our lunches. It's a tasty batch of sandwiches that we all share, smiling and chatting in the warm sun while a nice steady breeze keeps us cool and comfortable. While we eat the wind begins to shift to the north a little, so by the time we finish and motor out it's perfect for a starboard tack all the way back. We set the GPS again, and head off. This time Dad takes the tiller and I get to ride the bow over the waves under full sail, something I have never gotten to do on my own boat before. I remembered why I love sailing that day.
We sail on like that for another hour or so and come to the mouth of Little Salmon River. Dad and I decide we want to try to sail in. I've done it alone once before because I dimply don't like to use the outboard in the lake. Jackson is a short shaft, and doesn't always stay in the water; something I've never been comfortable with. So I just get sail up as soon as possible and take it down as late as possible. Anyway, we're sailing in, and this father and son are out kayaking. It's kind of obvious the son has done it before and the father hasn't. They're right in the middle of the entrance when the father rolls his kayak and falls out. He looks like he's having a hard time of it and he's drifting down the coast. Dad is on the tiller so I can drop the main, the jib is already down and tied up on the foredeck.
We get in without further difficulty, I drop the main and kick the outboard on. Dad turns to call to a passing powerboat that a kayaker rolled in the entrance and he might need help, unfortunately, Dad doesn't turn around as soon as this message is relayed and we start to drift out of the channel. I see it, and try to get his attention but it's too late, the mast crashes into a branch hanging overhead and we stop dead. I try to back out, but we're stuck fast. I climb onto the shrouds and shake the boat with the outboard it full reverse. Nothing. I'm confused, it looks like we should just be able to break free and back out, but for some reason it's not happening. I think, "we can't be aground, the depth sounder is saying five feet, we can anchor in three and be fine... Maybe Jackson just isn't up to the task, he's never been particularly powerful in reverse." Christine is down below getting into her swimsuit to check things out from in the water.
Just then a DEC boat comes up alongside with a big seventy horse outboard and asks if we'd like a tow. I'm still thinking we can get it ourselves, but dad thinks it's a good idea and I finally decide, yes, we'll get unstuck faster this way. They throw us a line and kick it into full reverse. We move a little, but not enough. They try again, nothing. So they swing around and try pulling in forward. That does it. After a few tries at full power a huge crunching crack sounds through the hull and a tree branch drops into the water. We're floating on our own again and start to motor back to the slip. I take the tiller from dad who's feeling very guilty. The boat feels sluggish as I steer. It's then I look down and see the centerboard is still down... all six feet of it... I pull the rope, it comes up slowly then jams half way. I think, "uh-oh.. hopefuly it's just a root or something wedged." I let go of the rope, expecting the board to drop back down and shake the root loose. Nothing happens. "shit..." We get to the dock, I get the boat hook and poke around at the board. I can feel something wedged along the side of the board. It feels like the pendant, but I can't figure out how it would get there. I manage to get the board unstuck, the climb back in and pull it up, it wedges again. "Not good.." The was a time in there I'm leaving out in there where we all think the board may have broken off and go walk around in the water where we went aground looking for it. We found nothing but a very deep trench where the centerboard wedged as the boat tried to pull us out.
Don is there tending to his marina and suggests we take the boat out into clear water and dive on it, we do. I can tell something is very wrong. The boat is slow and steers funny. We get out into the lake, drop anchor in fifteen feet of water, and I get in. I don't even have to go under, my feet touch the board as I hang off the gunwale, and I feel a jagged edge. We've snapped the board... somehow it's all still there, but badly cracked for sure. Dad feels terrible. He's offered to pay any repair fees. We get home and order a new board, new mounting hardware, the works. And that's where things stayed.. for two months.
It's a day or two before father's day and the wind is perfect, blowing from the west at ten to fifteen, My dad, sister, and I all have the day off, so we make the trip up to the marina and pile onto Cassandra. The plan is to sail up to the Salmon River, have lunch, and then sail back. It is so much different having three people on the boat that know what they're doing. I was able to ready the outboard while Christine hanked the jib on and Dad sorted our supplies.
We motored out into the lake, Dad took the tiller, and I was able to raise the main and jib myself without worrying about how much the boat was falling off, or whether we were going to jibe and kill myself. We fire up the GPS, point just north of the river mouth, and set the sails. I steer most of the way while Christine is riding in her usual spot in the companionway, and Dad sits on the leeward cockpit seat. I can tell by their smiles that they're both loving it. I think that may be one reason sailing with other people is so much more enjoyable.
Less than an hour later we pull into the mouth of the Salmon River and motor towards the break wall, I drop anchor in two feet of water just as the rudder touches the bottom, we back down on it and pull out our lunches. It's a tasty batch of sandwiches that we all share, smiling and chatting in the warm sun while a nice steady breeze keeps us cool and comfortable. While we eat the wind begins to shift to the north a little, so by the time we finish and motor out it's perfect for a starboard tack all the way back. We set the GPS again, and head off. This time Dad takes the tiller and I get to ride the bow over the waves under full sail, something I have never gotten to do on my own boat before. I remembered why I love sailing that day.
We sail on like that for another hour or so and come to the mouth of Little Salmon River. Dad and I decide we want to try to sail in. I've done it alone once before because I dimply don't like to use the outboard in the lake. Jackson is a short shaft, and doesn't always stay in the water; something I've never been comfortable with. So I just get sail up as soon as possible and take it down as late as possible. Anyway, we're sailing in, and this father and son are out kayaking. It's kind of obvious the son has done it before and the father hasn't. They're right in the middle of the entrance when the father rolls his kayak and falls out. He looks like he's having a hard time of it and he's drifting down the coast. Dad is on the tiller so I can drop the main, the jib is already down and tied up on the foredeck.
We get in without further difficulty, I drop the main and kick the outboard on. Dad turns to call to a passing powerboat that a kayaker rolled in the entrance and he might need help, unfortunately, Dad doesn't turn around as soon as this message is relayed and we start to drift out of the channel. I see it, and try to get his attention but it's too late, the mast crashes into a branch hanging overhead and we stop dead. I try to back out, but we're stuck fast. I climb onto the shrouds and shake the boat with the outboard it full reverse. Nothing. I'm confused, it looks like we should just be able to break free and back out, but for some reason it's not happening. I think, "we can't be aground, the depth sounder is saying five feet, we can anchor in three and be fine... Maybe Jackson just isn't up to the task, he's never been particularly powerful in reverse." Christine is down below getting into her swimsuit to check things out from in the water.
Just then a DEC boat comes up alongside with a big seventy horse outboard and asks if we'd like a tow. I'm still thinking we can get it ourselves, but dad thinks it's a good idea and I finally decide, yes, we'll get unstuck faster this way. They throw us a line and kick it into full reverse. We move a little, but not enough. They try again, nothing. So they swing around and try pulling in forward. That does it. After a few tries at full power a huge crunching crack sounds through the hull and a tree branch drops into the water. We're floating on our own again and start to motor back to the slip. I take the tiller from dad who's feeling very guilty. The boat feels sluggish as I steer. It's then I look down and see the centerboard is still down... all six feet of it... I pull the rope, it comes up slowly then jams half way. I think, "uh-oh.. hopefuly it's just a root or something wedged." I let go of the rope, expecting the board to drop back down and shake the root loose. Nothing happens. "shit..." We get to the dock, I get the boat hook and poke around at the board. I can feel something wedged along the side of the board. It feels like the pendant, but I can't figure out how it would get there. I manage to get the board unstuck, the climb back in and pull it up, it wedges again. "Not good.." The was a time in there I'm leaving out in there where we all think the board may have broken off and go walk around in the water where we went aground looking for it. We found nothing but a very deep trench where the centerboard wedged as the boat tried to pull us out.
Don is there tending to his marina and suggests we take the boat out into clear water and dive on it, we do. I can tell something is very wrong. The boat is slow and steers funny. We get out into the lake, drop anchor in fifteen feet of water, and I get in. I don't even have to go under, my feet touch the board as I hang off the gunwale, and I feel a jagged edge. We've snapped the board... somehow it's all still there, but badly cracked for sure. Dad feels terrible. He's offered to pay any repair fees. We get home and order a new board, new mounting hardware, the works. And that's where things stayed.. for two months.
Monday, May 2, 2011
A New Dawn on a New Season
Well, as this sailing season begins with a cold rainy start, my second summer out of college is heading in an interesting new direction I had not expected. I spent this winter working part time at Syracuse Stage, but when the new year started, they didn't need my help and I was forced to look for more work. This search led me to apply at West Marine. I'd applied before last spring, but never heard anything about it again. I pretty much expected the same this time, and as weeks went by I had all but forgotten about it. Then I got a call, they wanted an interview.
Fast forward a month or two, now I'm working 10 hours a week at west marine. They hired me because of the experience I have with sailing... specifically building Adra, and everything this blog has covered. One day my manager comes up to me and says, "Do you want the Assistant Manager position, I don't have one yet, and you're qualified." So now, not even two months working there and I have a management position. I'm still trying to figure out how it happened. The Lord is good.
Anyway.. that is loosely connected to what is happening with Cassandra. At West Marine one of my fellow co-workers is a licensed USCG captain, and owns a marina up on the Little Salmon River. He writes articles and needed a boat to take pictures of, I'd told him I wasn't sure how I'd afford to get Cassandra on the water this year, eventually he proposed a trade, Cassandra gets a slip in his marina, and he takes his pictures of me and my boat.
Yesterday we both had the day off and were going to launch Cassandra, step the mast, and take pictures of the stepping process. Well, the day dawned, cold and pouring. Still we both showed up and waited for a clearing. None came. So, we launched Cassandra in the pouring rain. We were both soaked to the bone by the time she was in the water. On a side note, Jackson has a fever and isn't cooling properly. I need to replace a gasket, but in the meantime I was allowed to use the marina's 15hp outboard to get Cassandra to her slip. So, the Lord has provided me with a well paying job, a slip for Cassandra, and a friendly coworkers. I'm looking forward to see how this year continues. Mast stepping should hopefully happen next week, updates will follow as more happens.
Fast forward a month or two, now I'm working 10 hours a week at west marine. They hired me because of the experience I have with sailing... specifically building Adra, and everything this blog has covered. One day my manager comes up to me and says, "Do you want the Assistant Manager position, I don't have one yet, and you're qualified." So now, not even two months working there and I have a management position. I'm still trying to figure out how it happened. The Lord is good.
Anyway.. that is loosely connected to what is happening with Cassandra. At West Marine one of my fellow co-workers is a licensed USCG captain, and owns a marina up on the Little Salmon River. He writes articles and needed a boat to take pictures of, I'd told him I wasn't sure how I'd afford to get Cassandra on the water this year, eventually he proposed a trade, Cassandra gets a slip in his marina, and he takes his pictures of me and my boat.
Yesterday we both had the day off and were going to launch Cassandra, step the mast, and take pictures of the stepping process. Well, the day dawned, cold and pouring. Still we both showed up and waited for a clearing. None came. So, we launched Cassandra in the pouring rain. We were both soaked to the bone by the time she was in the water. On a side note, Jackson has a fever and isn't cooling properly. I need to replace a gasket, but in the meantime I was allowed to use the marina's 15hp outboard to get Cassandra to her slip. So, the Lord has provided me with a well paying job, a slip for Cassandra, and a friendly coworkers. I'm looking forward to see how this year continues. Mast stepping should hopefully happen next week, updates will follow as more happens.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
See the World in a Small Boat, Says Hilaire Belloc
"There is a simple and and easy way to find what the men who made us found, and to see the world as they saw it, and to take a bath, as it were, in the freshness of beginnings; and that is to go to work as cheaply and as hardly as you can, and only as much away from men as they were away from men, and not to read or to write or to think, but to eat and drink and use the body in many immediate ways which are at the feet of every man. Every man who will walk for some days carelessly, sleeping, rough when he must, or in poor inns, and making for some one place direct because he desires to see it, will know the thing I mean. And there is a better way still of which I shall now speak: I mean, to try the seas in a little boat not more than twenty-five feet long, preferably decked, of shallow draught, such as can enter into all creeks and havens, and so simply rigged that by oneself, or with a friend at most, one can wander all over the world."
I endeavor to do just that. This summer, I will set out by myself direct for Cape Vincent in my twenty-five foot sailboat, because I desire to see it. And I will enter into creeks and havens for shelter and wander all over that world... and if my friends wish to join me, I will be more than happy to oblige.
-Brian
I endeavor to do just that. This summer, I will set out by myself direct for Cape Vincent in my twenty-five foot sailboat, because I desire to see it. And I will enter into creeks and havens for shelter and wander all over that world... and if my friends wish to join me, I will be more than happy to oblige.
-Brian
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
This is it.
For the last few weeks (months?) Cassandra has been sitting at anchor in Oswego harbor, too hard to get to for day trips and the weather not pleasant enough for longer trips. So there she sat, getting dirtier and lonelier. Finally, with Dad's help I was able to get the last of the trailer modifications finished. With the rollers lowered 6" and a 10' tongue extension retrieving Cassandra at the boat ramp was supposed to be simple. And, except for having to sail to the ramp when Jackson's fuel pump spewed everywhere, it was. We were able to pull two anchors and sail up to the ramp, despite the fact that I knocked Dad's glasses into the harbor... another bloop... Luckily mom was coming up anyway, and brought his spare pair. I was rather upset and impressed to see than my dad can sail better blind than I can with 20/20 vision. Anyway, we sailed to within a few hundred feet of the ramp, and let the North wind push us in the last little bit. Then we tied up, drove the trailer in, and floated Cassandra right on. Pulled her out, dropped the mast at took her home. All in all it was a day's job, and the only big problems were a motor that didn't start and a gutter on the garage that my mast got more closely acquainted with than it should have.
So, that's it for the adventures this year. I've got a job until January as deck crew for Syracuse Stage. Hopefully I can set aside enough money for the tweaks Cassandra needs over the winter. With everything else to do though, we will have to see.
Until then, my your life be full of stories.
-Brian McB.
So, that's it for the adventures this year. I've got a job until January as deck crew for Syracuse Stage. Hopefully I can set aside enough money for the tweaks Cassandra needs over the winter. With everything else to do though, we will have to see.
Until then, my your life be full of stories.
-Brian McB.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Well, Cassandra and I have been idle a lot longer than I had expected. Inertia set in I guess. Cassandra was able to stay on the wall by the lock almost the entire time. One of our neighbors on the river was kind enough to let me tie here up to his dock while they were away on vacation. A week or so ago my friend Brian helped me move Cassandra to the wall downstream of the lock.
This week was Vacation Bible School at church and I had to run sound for it in the morning, but every afternoon I took Cassandra a little further up the canal towards Oswego again in an attempt to get her to Fairhaven for this weekend. For those who don't know, my friends and I always attend the Sterling Renaissance Festival and afterward go to a beach to swim. This year I hope to have Cassie join us at the beach. Yesterday Dad helped me through locks 2 and 3 in Fulton, and then my friend Dustin joined me at lock 5 to go the rest of the way to Oswego. Today is Friday the 13th and I'm hoping to step my mast and sail to Little Sodus Bay this afternoon. I'm just waiting for my help to arrive.
As a side note I saw a neat little tugboat docked in Minetto (Lock 5) The pilot house was mounted on stilts, and the stilts had hydraulic rams in them so that the pilot house could be lifted to attain a better view over the tow. I thought it was pretty cool, but I didn't have my camera with me. There are pictures from the rest of the trip that should be uploaded in the next few days.
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