Sampaguita at rest in Dixie Cove Provincial Park in Kyuqout Sound. Lyndon, Tiffany and I braved the Northwest rain-forest and climbed the bluff above the Dixie Cove to catch the view and see if we could receive the weather channel on the VHF radio. We succeeded in the climb, but not in the reception. We managed to get pretty earthy (read as dirty) in the process, but it was worth it.
Xanadu – The Walde’s Niagara 35
Check out their story:
I spent two nights in Port McNeill waiting out the weather at the Government dock and on a walk I saw an enormous nursery stump in someones yard. It was the largest I had ever seen. When I say nursery stump, I mean that they planted their own flowers in it. I provisioned on some fresh foods and was anxious to get underway. It is a bit of an odd town of fisherman and lumberjacks and not aesthetically appealing. I may have been less anxious if I were at anchor, but I doubt it.
Not much time for blogging on the go. Taking care of the boat and myself takes everything. I’m in Westview, BC, my first rest stop in a week. My goal is to circumnavigate Vancouver Island. There are no guarantees, and many potential pitfalls. My first night at a dock. I ducked in here to get out of the mighty Northwest winds. I beat up Malaspina Strait yesterday against them, with current against wind. I read about how it could be. Now I have proof. Very intense and wet, rolling between 10 and 30 degrees of heel. It makes you feel alive. Sampaguita is in the lower left and the mighty Island is in the background. 
A new propane solenoid and rewired stern light. The project is not completely done in this picture but it is now. You can see the jug of distilled water as I was doing battery maintenance too.
Here we have an auxiliary set up. This little 17 amp battery will charge my phone and other USB devices. It will also run the DC to AC power inverter if I need to charge the camera battery or VHF. It might not be so good for the Mac though. The solar panel isn’t much but I will use it to try to keep the battery topped up. These are all loaner items and the set-up will be ad hoc as opposed to well spec’d.
Here I added a Sta-Lok fitting to my starboard shroud. The T-bolt was bent so I sawed it off at the swage and replaced it with a new one and a toggle, which doubled as a spacer. This was my first Sta-Lok installation and I feel good about the result. It was also an easy and inexpensive fix that I was able to manage at the dock.
This is the stern of the boat backed up to the dock. This is how I am able to remove the motor easily.
I then take the motor to the storage unit where it is much easier to perform maintenance.
List of to-dos:
Me
Day 2 – Inspect bottom, photos, future haul out to-dos list
Day 3 – Disassemble, Inspect, Reassemble Bow Platform, Bowsprit, Anchor Chafe Guards, Change Zinc on the rudder pintle
Day 4 – Disassemble, Inspect, Lubricate, Reassemble Seacocks, Inspect, Lubricate Motor Mount
Day 5 – Prep boat for floating
Day 6 – Check the through Hulls upon float and return to slip
The Yard
Day 2 – Waterline – Strike and prep
Day 3 – Prep Bottom, 1 coat applied
Day 4 – 2nd coat applied
Day 5 – Boat moved and painted under blocks
Day 6 – Put the boat in the water
Paint it Black. A different color is good for contrast against the undercoat.
Alex doing touch ups.
The disassembled Galley Sink seacock. These are the inner working of the Groco SV seacock. I have disassembled and lubricated the three seacocks on the boat.
Just what it says. The plug and disc go in there.
The step ladder to the right was helpful for inspecting the bowsprit to the left.
From the starboard quarter.
The Stern.
Ready to float again.
This morning I had a haul-out for the Flicka scheduled at the Yard in Ballard at 9am. It started snowing at about 7pm last night and the temperature dropped below freezing overnight. I awoke this morning to an inch of snow at 27 degrees. The heat was on overnight so there was chunky layer of ice between the deck and the snow. I went and got some coffee and stopped by the boat yard to make sure we were still on. They were gung ho. The business must go on. So back to the boat for last minute preparations. Brush off the snow, pack for the day, throw out the garbage, start the motor. The motor started well enough though it took a bit extra time to warm up. I excused it. I warped the boat from the slip and made the short trip to the Yard. A bit of extra caution was needed walking on the decks with the remaining ice and snow, but our arrival was uneventful. I watched the yard hoist the boat out, took some pictures, talked to the yard manager and went to about my day. I would be awaiting an estimate for various requested items. More on that on a later time. 
Up
And Up Close
Pressure Wash That Turns to Blue Ice
My View From the Veranda. Very Cold with a Halogen Glow. Surrounded by Fish Out of Water.
Little Boat in a Big Tent. Not Sure Why I Ended Up in Here. The Yard is Pretty Full. A Ladder to Board and Shore Power for the Heat.
Sampaguita’s cockpit drain seacocks. This photo is post repair. The one on the left was the leaker. The seacock on the right is an example of the previous putty jobs. The smaller inner tube into the orange juice jug is drainage for the ice box.
I came to the conclusion one of my cockpit drain seacocks was leaking. Well, not actually the seacock, but the elbow attached to it. I actually think it might have been amiss for a long time but I just officially realized it. The leak was so slight that a small 2 or 3 drip puddle of water was all there might be in the bilge, and sometimes nothing. I finally saw the trail of water from under the elbow and down the seacock. Anyway, once I came to the confident conclusion that it was leaking, there was no turning back and no letting it go. Time to explore.
I did my normal over investigation and research but I am uncertain what the original build on this particular boat was. There are four components to the cockpit drain. Top to bottom, there is a plastic cockpit drain, a hose, a Marelon(plastic) elbow and a bronze thru-hull/seacock. The seacocks are original. They are the Groco SV-1250, an old design that hasn’t been made since 1992. While obsolete, they are still solid and I feel confident in them. The cockpit drains are original. I come to this conclusion because they look as they are the original install. The hoses are consistent with each other and it is the same type of hose used for the manual bilge pump set up. Either these were all replaced together or they are the original install. This leaves the elbows. The Marelon is a solid product, but why not bronze elbows? Why was the putty used to seal the elbows so sloppily done? Was this factory installed or a later repair?
I closed the seacock and removed the hose from the elbow. Good news is the seacock closes and seals properly. I have opened and closed the seacock before, but with the hose on, you cannot tell if it actually is working as it is supposed to. More good news is that the seal between the hose and the elbow is very tight, even with the hose clamps removed water did not seep through. I used a steamed cloth to soften the hose for easier removal.
With the hose off, I was then able to easily break the putty seal and unscrew the elbow from the seacock by hand. My research informed me that I need to use a sealant when installing Marelon elbows to make the connection water tight. This delicateness was an eye-opener in a system that I wanted to be bullet proof. Would the bronze elbows be better?
The seacock with the elbow removed. No leakage from the inner plug. The bronze looks solid, however there was some corrosion on the top edge of the threads. You can see the off-color on the top ring. I established this was not a safety issue but took note of it as something to keep an eye on.
The Marelon elbow
I picked up the appropriate bronze elbow (TPC-1250) from the marine store to test it out. It is a sturdy feeling piece of hardware with a neoprene gasket that will make the hard mechanical seal I imagined in a strong system. The first thing I noticed was that the bronze elbow does not have any hose barbs on the end for added sealing security. I imagined this would be alright, however the second thing I noticed was that the hose end of the elbow was only 1.25″ in O.D. while my existing hose was 1.5″ I.D. This was going to be a problem and it shed some light on why the system was as it was.
The underside of the cockpit drain and laundry detergent.
The installed cockpit drains were sized to have a 1.5″ I.D. hose on them. To change the hose size would mean changing the cockpit drains too (a sizable production) or add an adapter (less production) which would decrease performance and increase fragility and complexity to the system. On the other end, we could increase the seacock size (very major production) to match the drain and hose size. The Marelon elbow was the apparent solution for mating the 2 different sizes together.
My hopes of improving the system beyond the present were dashed as I am presently unwilling to take on the major production of rebuilding the cockpit drain/seacock system. So I cleaned up the pieces, bought some Teflon tape, practiced assembling the system a couple of times to be confident in the seal and tightened it up. I chose the Teflon tape as it cleans up so easily on disassembly. If I find it doesn’t last, I can give the putty a go.
I did fix the leak…for now. I’ll keep my eye on it for sure. The repair, while important, was so small in comparison to the exploration of the system. Hours of fuss only to fix it with a screwdriver and $1.31 of Teflon tape. On the other hand, I have a very comprehensive understanding of the system, it’s maintenance and how I would rebuild it differently to make it better if I were so inclined. So I’ve got that going for me.
Over the years, as minor changes were made to the design of the Flicka 20 in response to real world feedback and changing technologies, certain solutions were adapted to facilitate the changes. I speculate that the Marelon elbows were a factory install as an adapter to facilitate these design changes. When I peeled away the old putty, the bronze underneath has a fresh look so I could even believe the sloppy putty job could be from the factory.
The new seal with the Teflon tape.
The Last Age of Sail
I awoke to a generous amount of wake as fishermen were coming and going from the Kingston Marina. No matter though, I was not interested in hanging out. I weighed anchor at 8:35am and with a light SE breeze and sailed from of the anchorage. I tacked out of the cove against the waning flood and sailed east toward Point Wells. The going was slow and 3 hrs later, just as I had reached the Point, the wind went calm. An ebb was on and so at 11:50, I turned on the outboard and made a bee line for Shilshole. In the good light of the morning I had checked my fuel level and was convinced I had much more than enough for the trip to Seattle. The day was very nice, the Sound was calm. I had made a good go of the sailing earlier, but it was obvious we were done with that for the day and the trip. It was a Wakesville day too, so my journey had a series of bouncy sessions. Wakesville is what I call a day when the wind is calm and the water is flat except for other boats’ wakes, which can at times, be quite substantial. Dependent on which direction they come from will determine whether it’s a roll, a yaw or a pitch.
Blurry Eyed at Shilshole Channel
Circling at the Locks
After a couple of hours of droning along, I reached Shilshole Channel and headed up to the small lock waiting area. On a Thursday before the 4th of July weekend, outbound traffic was heavy, while inbound traffic was light. I waited through two lock cycles as the Argosy tour boat had also arrived. Their transit took priority as they live higher up on the maritime locking through hierarchy. In the mean time, there was a small fishing boat coming and going and setting nets. A tug with a gravel barge also came through for the large lock, so I timed my circles accordingly. I was taken aback at how stressful it was to be in an urban waterworld with so many hazards around.
Alas, my turn arrived and I piloted through the locks uneventfully and on to my home slip in Ballard. It was 3pm and an undramatic ending to a great adventure. The boat was unkept as the last 3 days were more focused on home port fever than domestic chores. That would change over the next 2 days. I had plenty of time to do some tidying and cleaning now, adjusting to the home port life again.
This concludes an epic adventure and even more epic posting of the adventure. Thank you for stopping by and I hope you are also considering an adventure of your own.
Stats: TO – 14.30NM, MS – 4.8kt, MA – 2.4kt, TT – 6hr, 57min, Motor on – 190min.
June on the Hook Summary
Departure – June 6th, 2017 Return – June 29th, 2017
20 evenings on the hook 3 evenings tied to a dock
19 days traveling 5 layover days
Total Expenditures – $218.33 (this only includes expenses incurred after departure and does not include preparatory expenses)
Moorage – $44.40 – 3 nights
Fuel – $27.86 – 3 top offs
Provisions – $48.95
Entertainment – $92.87
Showers./Misc. – $4.25
| Date | NM | minutes | minutes |
|
6/6/17 |
8.6 |
241 |
36 |
|
6/7/17 |
29.53 |
902 |
133 |
|
6/8/17 |
15.9 |
381 |
30 |
|
6/9/17 |
15.91 |
458 |
377 |
|
6/10/17 |
7.54 |
243 |
0 |
|
6/11/17 |
4.5 |
208 |
0 |
|
6/12/17 |
14.74 |
323 |
30 |
|
6/13/17 |
19.67 |
445 |
12 |
|
6/16/17 |
27.61 |
503 |
45 |
|
6/17/17 |
24.92 |
423 |
40 |
|
6/18/17 |
40.48 |
716 |
180 |
|
6/19/17 |
11.31 |
230 |
135 |
|
6/21/17 |
32.51 |
581 |
100 |
|
6/22/17 |
39.23 |
678 |
365 |
|
6/23/17 |
27.09 |
619 |
210 |
|
6/24/17 |
25.26 |
546 |
180 |
|
6/27/17 |
40.60 |
746 |
540 |
|
6/28/17 |
46.86 |
828 |
240 |
|
6/29/17 |
14.3 |
417 |
190 |
| Total |
446.56 |
9488 |
2843 |
| Avg./ travel day – 19 |
23.50 |
||
| Avg./ day – 24 |
18.61 |
||
| Hours traveled |
158.13 |
||
| % of travel time motor was on |
29.96% |
||
| Shortest Dist. in 1 day |
4.5 |
||
| Longest Dist. in 1 day |
46.86 |
||
| Avg. Speed – kts |
2.82 |
I sailed out of the Utsalady Bay anchorage at 9am with a light South wind and a waning flood tide. I sailed around the North end of Camano Island and beat my way down Saratoga Passage. The flood turned to ebb but the current was “weak and variable” in this area. Still, I made decent progress. As I approached Camano Island State Park, I got a lift from the wind as its direction seemed to veer to the SW. This may have been an effect of Holmes Sound tucked into Whidbey Island as it appeared to funnel from this direction. I was able to hold the starboard tack and sailed an arc which took me very close to the point at Camano Island SP. I was trying to make the most of it, all the time ready to tack over if it looked like I would run out of room or the wind decided to change direction or strength. I made the point and soon after the SW wind faded and shifted back to the South, which was right on the nose. It was light and variable and just enough to keep me moving in the ebb tide. I tacked back and forth, trying to make the most of it through the afternoon. Eventually, the tide turned to a flood and at 5:19pm, I started the motor.
Leaving Utsalady Bay
Looking Back at Utsalady Bay
A Good Beat Down Saratoga Passage
The Beat Slows Down
I was still thinking I could make it back to Ballard that evening, but my hopes faded quickly as I realized I was fighting a 1-2 knot tidal current in Possession Sound. I considered my options.
- First, I could go for Ballard. I would likely get there between midnight and 2am. I would still have to transit the locks, which are open 24/7, but I also was concerned that I could run out of gasoline. It can be difficult to judge how far you can go on a given amount of gas. I tend to think more in how many hours I can run, rather than how far I can go. Factors such as wind and tide can slow progress. Another significant determination is how many RPM you are running. The fuel used and the progress gained is not linear. As you approach hull speed, it takes more and more energy to eke out each fraction of a knot. Finally there is a point where, even though the engine will continue to increase RPM, get louder and use more fuel, the boat will not go any faster through the water. Hull speed for a full displacement boat such as mine can be determined by a the formula, HS = 1.34 x √LWL with LWL being the length of the boats water line in feet. My water line is 18’2” so my hull speed is about 5.7 knots. I find the sweet spot where I can balance fuel economy, engine volume and progress is about 4.3 knots through the water.
- Second, I could go to Everett which I have never sailed to. This would take me a bit off course and would also mean I would need to rent a slip, as I do not know of any anchorage in the Everett area.
- Third, I could go to Edmonds. This is on the way and they would have fuel in the morning, yet would require renting a slip, as there is no anchorage there. I have been to this marina before and in fact, Sampaguita was in this marina when I purchased her.
- Fourth, I could go to Appletree Cove at Kingston. Here I could get a slip or anchor out. I have never anchored here but I have read about it and I have seen it done often. If I needed fuel, I would be able to get this there in the morn. Appletree Cove is the farthest of the four choices, but the anchoring option was a big plus and it would be a fairly quick trip to get home the next day.
I decided on Appletree Cove. I motored and fought the current past Possession Point. I set the sails again on a WSW course in the light S wind, and in the open space of Puget Sound. Once past Scatchet Head, the flood tide on the nose, became a flood tide on the stern. This is because the tidal current floods through Admiralty Inlet into Puget Sound from the North, then fills into Possession Sound from the South.
Sailing With the Sunset
Evening Push to Appletree Cove
I found myself running out of light for the second day in a row. The return legs from a trip always seem the hardest. The territory is familiar and the real exploring and fresh scenery is long gone. The urge for some might be to motor up and beeline to the home port (I call it home port fever,) making the return leg a chore to be done as quickly as possible. I could do this, if I was smart enough. Instead, I drag the trip out as I meander from beginning to end worshiping the sail. Still, I see the end goal and recognize my hard push to achieve it in my own way.
I found myself in the shipping channel with the waning light and in between two converging tugs. I turned on my navigation lights, turned the motor on and lowered the sails. I figured I could get to Appletree Cove in an hour if I didn’t hit any floating debris. I made it across the ferry lane and to the anchorage with the stars beginning to show. There were two fishing boats at anchor, the wind was calm and forecast to remain so. At 10:30pm, I dropped the hook in 40 foot of water and let out 130 foot of scope. The anchorage would be a bit rolly from the ferry and from boats coming and going from the marina, but manageable. I tidied the boat up, exhausted from a second long day, and crawled in to the berth.
Stats: TO – 46.86, MS – 6.1kt, MA 3.5kt, TT – 13hr 48min, AD – 40ft, AS – 140ft
Misc.: Motor on – 240mins, First time in Kingston anchorage
The long marine road to Seattle goes through La Conner. Did I know I was going to go that way when I left Friday Harbor? No. I had originally planned to go through Deception Pass and inside along the eastern edge of Whidbey Island for protection from the forecast Small Craft Advisory in the Strait of Juan de Fuca. The usual and shortest route to Seattle goes past Cattle Point at the southern entrance to San Juan Channel and across the Strait of Juan de Fuca to Port Townsend. I have taken the usual route several times but I was a bit leery with the weather forecast on the Strait. Normally this would sound fun, but not with a compromised shroud.
I weighed anchor from Shipyard Cove at 11am, which was a bit of a late start. With currents, timing is everything and this late start would determine my route. I was on an ebb tide and I headed east in the archipelago with moderate sailing winds. I had decided to take Peavine Pass which leads the way into Rosario Strait between Blakely Island to the South and Obstruction Island to the North. I chose Peavine Pass because I had never been through it before, and because it was closest. I hoped to get through it and into Rosario Strait while there was still an ebb tide so I could ride the current to Deception Pass.
I have only gone through Deception Pass once and that was headed west, so an eastward transit is on my list. It wouldn’t be this time though. As the day went on and the wind dissipated to nil, I turned the motor on at 1:42pm as I prepared for Peavine Pass. By the time I made it through Peavine, I only had about an hour of ebb tide left. The thought of slogging against the flood in Rosario Straight as far as Deception Pass, which was still 10 miles away, sounded dreadful and downright impractical. So I decided I would turn east into Guemes Channel and checkout Anacortes. This turn then put the flood on my stern and I started to make very good time, hitting speeds over 7 knots. With this boost I was inspired to keep on going and with Seattle as my goal, my only option was the Swinomish Channel, through La Conner.
The National Geographic “Quest”
Washington State Ferry in Dry Dock
Hoisting Supplies Aboard
Tankers and Tugs at the Refinery
Objects are Closer Than They Appear
The Tesoro Anacortes Refinery at Padilla Bay
I continued on past Anacortes with its shipyards, its massive oil refinery/depot, it’s large vessel anchorage and carefully followed the channel buoys. The channel through Padilla Bay is surrounded by mudflats so it is imperative to stay in the channel. These mudflats are populated with many sea birds such as herons, grebes, eagles and Dunlins. This wildlife contrasts with the massive human industrial complex in and around the bay. I have been this way once before and while La Conner is an inviting little town, this route is not particularly inspiring. It generally requires motoring exclusively, the scenery is mostly industrial and drab, the waters are shoal and the tides can be difficult to read. It’s one major advantage, and this is a big one which makes it necessary and popular, especially amongst power boaters, is that it is an all-weather passage providing an inland and docile route around the Strait of Juan de Fuca with its potential for higher winds and the resultant sea state. This is why I was there.
I made good time and reached La Conner with a following tidal current the entire way. I very nearly pulled up to the city dock for the evening as it was getting late. There was a spot for me and the current was manageable. The tide turns the narrow channel into a river which changes direction four times a day. This can make docking and undocking a bit tricky, especially by oneself. The wind was very light, so I decided to forego the land trap and keep on as I thought I may be able to find a quiet anchorage in Skagit Bay. This was the original plan when I had originally considered Deception Pass.
Hole in the Wall to Skagit Bay
Well, as soon as I passed La Conner, the tidal current shifted to the bow. This was where the floods met and my progress suddenly slowed considerably. Determined to stay the course, I pushed on through Hole in the Wall which is just what it sounds like, a chasm where the channel cuts through a wall of rock. The channel makes a 90 degree turn to the West once you exit the wall and you are thrust out into the open of Skagit Bay. This hard turn creates eddies to negotiate and once through, there was a brisk West wind on the nose. I suspected this was the Small Craft Warning wind from the Strait of Juan de Fuca coming over the saddle of Whidbey Island. The channel here is straight and shoal, with a range set up on Whidbey Island to help guide you out. I was having regrets about not tying up to the La Conner dock and I suppose I could have turned back, but push on is what I did. The going was slow against the wind and the tide but I made it and turned South again once past the final buoy.
I raised the sails, but as I was closer to Whidbey Island now and away from the saddle, the wind had lost some of its spark and the tide was still adverse. Going was slow and I realized that I was running out of light. The anchorage I had imagined I would use, didn’t really exist. I pulled out the chart and studied it, trying to locate where a good place to anchor might be. I wanted to reach one before it got dark and I wanted one that would protect me from a West wind that could blow in off the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Penn Cove was too far. So was Oak Harbor and it has a tricky entrance I have only done once, several years ago. The guide books had nothing for this area either. I settled on Utsalady Bay on the northern edge of Camano Island. It looked like I could tuck in behind Utsalady Point in about three fathoms of water with a mud bottom. It was a high tide so the approach would be fine. I could see where I wanted to go, but it was still about five miles away. That would be over an hour by motor and I was cutting it close as far as light was concerned. I motored up and went for it.
The Improv Anchorage
I arrived at Utsalady Point and I decided it would do. It was just beyond dusk. There was a mooring field there with several pleasure craft so I dropped the hook on the outer edge of this field. It might get a little rolly, but would do just fine and by the time the anchor was set, the other boats were just silhouettes against the street lights and television sets ashore. By the time I had tidied up the boat and grabbed something to eat it was midnight. It was a long day and it was debatable that I had made a good decision by not stopping in La Conner. On one hand, I passed up an inexpensive city dock in a quaint little town and pitted myself against the elements of adverse current and wind without having a well researched anchorage plan. On the other hand it appears to have worked out and the anchorage was suitable in the present weather. To boot, this was the first anchorage I have used that I had not been guided to by a book. Up until now, I had played it safe and followed those who had gone before me and have been clever enough to publish books about it.
Stats.: 40.6NM, MS – 7.6kts, MA – 3.5kts, TT – 12hrs 26mins., AD – ~28ft, AS – 130ft
Misc.: Unpublished anchorage, 550mins. motoring, debatable planning.
sailingwithjosh
Sailing With Josh 