A fantastic day of sailing and a rude awakening

Saturday Aug 15 was a fantastic sailing day on San Francisco Bay!  While the Bay Area and inland valleys experienced a dramatic heat wave, the cool Pacific breezes slowly built over the course of the day without any fog.  That’s like having your cake and eating it too!   The heat wave was caused by high pressure over the Nevada and the Southern CA deserts that trapped air in the CA central valley and along its coastal regions.  While the high-level cooling effect of the Pacific sea breeze was shut down, the surface winds were very strong on SF Bay by mid afternoon.  Well timed with the tide, the wind chop in the bay was reduced, making for relatively flat waters.  The land was so warm that it also heated the breeze so that the winds in the eastern bay were warm!  Tropical!  People were sailing in t-shirts!  No shirts! 

Heading out of Richmond toward Tiburon. Down right Tropical!!

But 1000 miles away trouble was brewing.  Moist air from a tropical storm Fausto off Mexico was being funneled north up the coast.  While there were predictions for some thunder and lightening, nothing warned of what was really to come.  I had experienced such weather oddities in SF before.  Usually later in September, but always rather mild.  I basically forgot about it. 

I sailed into the evening and then decided to anchor off of Sausalito to rest a bit, have some dinner and maybe head back to the dock or just stay the night.  I’ve done this several times before.  It’s an OK anchor spot, a bit rolley, but has good holding ground, so easy and low stress.  The evening was delightful.  My choice to anchor and eventual stay was confirmed by several other boats that were doing the same, including a Coast Guard Cutter.   I eventually went to bed.

At anchor off Sausalito in the company of the super yacht Attessa (226 feet), a Coast Guard Cutter, and others.

A little bit before 4 AM I was woken by the howl of the wind.  Sudden and violent gusts were rolling the boat.  Thunder then lightening.  I immediately knew this was the predicted thunder and lightening, I was shocked at the violence of the squall.  I had that awful feeling that you get when you know you have made a terrible mistake, but before anything bad has happened, like a mix of dread and shame.

I poked my head out of the boat and was confronted by howling wind, choppy waves, and far off lightening.  When I sail Nirvana, with all the sails up in 20 knots of wind, she will heal over till the rail is in the water.  This is normal for a sailing boat.  I had no sails up and one gust healed the boat over until the rail was almost in the water.  I reached a quick state of mental resolve – this could be it for the boat, nothing much for me to do but protect myself. 

I pulled a few cushions and other items out of the cockpit to create a clear working space.  I turned on the engine.  I went below and put on my foul weather gear, my sea boots, a head lamp, my life jacket and my sailing gloves (to protect my hands).  I turned on all the navigation lights and cabin lights and the radio.  I have a hand held radio as well, and I turned it on and snapped it into one of my pockets.  I grabbed a knife and pocked it.   I went up on deck.

I took stock – nothing was broken yet, the engine was running well.  I observed my position and the boat did not seem to be dragging anchor, yet.  Lightening was now closer, over SF and the sky above me was black.   I went forward to the bow and added some tie downs to the jib sail, and then to the main sail, both of which were trying to break loose in the wind.  The boat was aggressively surging back and forth on her anchor, like a wild horse at the end of a rope.  

When anchoring, I had set the anchor well and put out about 80 feet of anchor line, about 4 to 1 in the 20+ feet of depth below the boat.   The first 20 feet of my anchor setup is heavy chain.  Since I only anchor casually in the Bay, and I don’t have an anchor winch (a windless), this arrangement is most manageable.  But it is not ideal for such conditions.  One would want more chain, a windless and just a bit of rope as a snubber.  

So my first strategy was to try and let more anchor line out.  The more “scope” the lesser upward angle and upward pull at the shaft of the anchor which is like a plow, so if it is pulled along the bottom, straight and level, it should dig in.  From the past, I knew that the bottom here was pure heavy mud, no sea grass (which can clog the plow).   So I felt good about that.

The one part of my setup which is a bit over built is the anchor itself.  I use a 35 pound CQR, which is substantial.   I went to the bow to see if I could let out more scope, but the anchor line was so taught on the cleat, I couldn’t easily unwrap it.  The line itself was as hard as steel.  So I inspected it where it went over the bow, and luckily it was staying on the roller and not chaffing against anything.  But I reasoned that it was likely to snap before long.

So I prepared myself to have to maybe cut the boat free if the anchor started dragging, or the line snapped below the water and the boat got too close to the pier where the ferry dock is.  Without an anchor winch, I would not be able to pull the anchor up to reset it in these conditions.  

Enough said….

But it held.  The radio crackled with the voices of others.  Mostly the anchor-out community in Sausalito’s Richardson Bay.  Boats were dragging and generally being tossed about. The water is shallow there and it was less protected than where I was, so the waves were bigger.

The Cost Guard cutter anchored near by came to life and had all its lights on, but remained tied to the fixed buoy they use.

Conditions slowly mellowed and I let out more scope till I had at least 7 to 1 and went below and got my phone and brought up the weather app Windy.com.  It has a weather radar mode, so I could see the squalls coming up the coast and that they were at least spread out and not continuous.  It was a big relief.  It seemed manageable.  I made some coffee and grabbed a bite to eat knowing that with such squalls, the wind often backs around and will come from opposite directions.  That was a worry. The wind had been mostly from the South and West, but if it clocked to the East, it would swing the boat and put about 50 yards between me and the rocky shore. 

I settled in and watched the fantastic lightening storm over SF and the East Bay.

As dawn progressed, the tide was favorable, and I saw there was a big break in the coming squalls, so I pulled up the anchor and headed back to the dock. 

My window of opportunity.

I put the auto pilot on and sat up on the bow and watched the squall lines in the south bay march along and the lightening continue to light up the sky.  I got back to my dock safe and sound around 9:30 AM. A rude awakening, but a happy ending.

PS: Sadly the lightening started many fires and some of them turned into real infernos, destroying homes, some State Park facilities, historic redwoods and causing some related deaths. As of Aug 28, some of the fires continue to burn.

On the way back to Richmond, rain squalls line up in the East Bay.

Off the beaten path, a summer shore excursion

While Nirvana awaits more engine repairs (the subject of another post, another time), I ventured off for a week-long backpacking trip in the Sierra’s with Pia. It’s the third summer we have made such a father-daughter trip, and the second time we have gone to the Kaiser Wilderness in the Western Central Sierra.

We had a fantastic time!  And we seem to have found a favorite place to go that I expect (hope!) we will visit many times again in the future.

Once again, the peaceful and restorative quality of the wilderness, and particularly this part of the Sierras, was our reward for what was actually a fairly easy hike.  The visual beauty and deep quiet of this landscape is very fulfilling. 

Our trip started off with the drive to Huntington Lake near the end of route 168, East of Fresno, parking the car at the Potter Pass Cutoff trail. 

Last year we had a great hamburger at Huntington Lake Resort, but this time around the kitchen was closed, so we grabbed some snacks and headed up to the trail head.  

From the car park, we hiked 4.5 miles to Upper Twin Lake, over Potter Pass and its great view of the snowy mountains of the Sierra range.  We hiked along the Round Meadow cut off trail, a trail that my dad and I helped build 40 years ago!  The trail was in great shape!

OUR ROUTE IN RED

While the Twin Lakes area of the Kaiser Wilderness gets lots of visitors on the weekend, we have found it to be fairly empty during the week.  A few other campers at Upper Twin Lake, but this year we didn’t see anyone between Upper Twin and Jewel Lake.

We camped at our favorite spot above Upper Twin Lake.  That helped us escape the mosquitos and gave us a great view to the East and the spine of the Sierras. 

The following day we took a day hike to Sample Meadow.  The trail was lightly used, and the deep forest was beautiful.  We hiked as far as the Forest Service road that leads to Sample Meadow (yes, you can drive there from a different direction!), but we didn’t see the meadow and felt we should turn-around and head back.  But we got see Round Meadow from a different view, and the hike alone was worth it. 

The heavy snow in the Sierras this past winter meant that there was lots of water and wild flowers.  And lots of mosquitos!  We encountered snow banks in the shade at 8,500 feet.

The next day we packed up and headed off to the higher lakes under Kaiser peak.  We had camped at George Lake last year, and day hiked up to College, Campfire and Jewel lakes.  This time we were determined to camp at Jewel lake, and having scouted the route the year before we felt confident we could make it.  The trail mostly ends at George Lake, and becomes spotty after that, so climbing to the other lakes requires a bit of cross country hiking.  But there are cairns marking a reasonably discernible route.  We were very much off the beaten path! Having given ourselves lots of time, we made good progress up to College, then Campfire and then Jewel lake.  There were no signs that other hikers had been there recently or even this year. 

As we approached Jewel lake, the snow fields become larger and more frequent.  We were able to avoid them, but it wasn’t surprising when we arrived to find the lake’s deep bowl almost completely surrounded in snow.

Yet it’s beauty was unaffected and the one (and only real) campsite was clear and dry.  But not for long!  Within an hour, the thunderheads had gathered and there’re was light rain.  I started to set up a shelter, and just in time as it quickly turned to hail!  We had to sit out the first burst under a tarp.  We were able to set the tent up before the next burst and waited out the hail and rain which dissipated in less than an hour. 

The next morning we were paid a visit by a lone marmot, who boldly came into our camp and sniffed around our gear before leaving.  I had never seen one behave like that, but he seemed healthy and content.  We decided to spend the day at Jewel lake and not attempt to climb to Kaiser peak as we had hoped.  The weather was unsettled and the snow fields significant enough that being exposed on the high ridges wasn’t a good choice.  We had a bit more rain and hail in the late afternoon, but were treated to some beautiful ground fog in the valley below.  Needless to say, we had the whole lake to ourselves.  Perfect for peace and contemplation.   

our camp at Jewel Lake, 9,800 feet

A happy camper.

Throughout the trip I had been even more mindful of the trees than in the past.  The forest on the way to Huntington Lake is quite damaged by past years of drought and the pine bark beetles, so that maybe something like 40%+ of the trees are dead.  Now that it’s been a few years since the peak dye off, and most of the dead trees have lost their needles, they are not as noticeable in the dense forest.  At the higher elevations, like Upper Twin Lake (8,500 feet), maybe 3% or so of the trees have died.  

But what is most striking is the age and girth of some of the trees at these higher altitudes.  The junipers in particular are massive.  Considering the rock they are growing on (without much soil), and the short summer season, they reach a size that is astounding.   How old must they be? 

What I came to realize this year is, that when you know a place, you know how to make the most of it. I’ve been back to the Kaiser Wilderness several times over the past 40 years, and it has not changed. Knowing how to get off the beaten path, even when one is present isn’t that hard to do. And in this case, that meant getting great vistas, comfortable camps, and avoiding people all within short distances. The Sierra's in general are a great destination in the summer for such trips, as they are actually pretty benign - so you don't need lots of clothing or a heavy tent or other gear. Also, short distances keep your calories in check so you don't need a ton of food. I also realize that I have to use a little bit of money to overcome my age! Buying super light gear and a great sleeping pad really do make a difference.

It's good to be back in the wind!

Been catching up on some sailing! A beautiful day on the Bay.

Where's Nirvana? The tale of a year spent dockside.

Its been more than a year since I pulled the dip stick out of Nirvana's Gray Marine 4-112 engine and found it covered in a gray smoothy. 

Water and oil don't mix.  Well, apparently, except when they are together in an engine that has run for a while.  Then you get a milkshake like substance.  But it isn't sweet.

The engine still worked.  Turned over and fired up just fine.  Everyone was upbeat about it.  Just pump the oil out, replace it, and see what happens.  But the smoothy was too think.  The first extractor pump couldn't pull it through the hose.  After running the engine to heat the mixture, adding transmission fluid to thin it, and using a bigger, better extractor, was I able to drain it.  

Maybe at that point I should have just filled it back up and run the engine till it died, really died. 

Instead, I put into motion the process of trouble shooting it.  Hopeful that maybe it was just a head gasket.  After all, the engine had been rebuilt in 2010.  Finding a mechanic who can, and will work on old marine gas engines isn't easy.  Having found one, although officially retired,  I felt lucky and a sense of urgency.  

As the engine came apart at his shop in the California Gold Country, the reports weren't good.  He didn't like what he was seeing. A total rebuild would be needed. 

What options were there? We could try and replace it with a an existing rebuild, retro fit a "newer" generation gas engine like an Atomic 4, or switch to an even newer diesel.  Each had advantages and disadvantages.  

“My GM for the project warned me that the only thing more unpredictable than an old marine engine were the guys who worked on them.”

The 31 hp Gray Marine 4-112 is based on a Continental industrial engine which was designed for things like fork lifts, compressors, generators, welders, pumps, etc. They were meant to idle away the day at load in a compact size, and a relatively quite, cool manner.  The Gray Motor Company, which operated from 1901 to 1967, built their own engines up through 1929, including engines that were used in WWI life boats and to pump out trenches in France.   

After a failed attempt in building its own cars to compete with Ford in the 1920's, the marine engine division continued on by converting engines from a number of manufacturers.  Gray Marines, both gas and diesel, were common in fishing boats, work boats, as sail and motor boat auxiliaries, life boats, and even powered the famous Higgins landing craft used throughout WWII. 

Gray Marine was purchased by Continental Motors in 1944.  The wide variety of Gray Marine engines in service, and the common parts shared with other industrial engines, seems to have kept them in service long after the brand was closed by Continental.  To this day there remains a market for Gray Marine parts, mostly for classic runabouts and speed boats such as Chris-Crafts. 

After scouring the internet, and posting on various chat boards, no replacement 4-112 could be found.   But Van Ness Engineering in New Jersey had a re-machined block and all the parts for a rebuild, and so it was decided.  The engine would be rebuilt.  This would allow all the supporting systems to remain as is, simplifying the replacement process.  The one upgrade to be made was the addition of a fresh water cooling system.  Van Ness had supplied these before for the 4-112 and knew where to source the parts and make the custom brackets the additional pump would require.

My GM for the project warned me that the only thing more unpredictable than an old marine engine were the guys who worked on them.  It would be an expensive process so I wasn't in a rush and figured a slow pace would help spread the cost over time.  Weeks turned into months as parts were ordered, shipped, received, inspected, sorted and tinkered with.  I didn't push.  If a holiday was approaching, I'd wait for it to pass before sending out one of my gentile emails.

"Where are we?"
"Any progress?"
"How's it going?"
"Heard anything lately?"
"Any Update?"

My birthday in April passed.

The Master Mariner's Regatta in May passed.

The Master Mariner's Boat Show in June passed.

April 20, 2018.  Rebuilt engine minus additional water pump.

By late May the rebuilt engine was at the yard and "all" that appeared to be missing was the extra water pump which had been ordered, but discontinued, and no one had figured that out while they were waiting around.  A new pump was sourced.  It was suppose to be mounted on the engine before the boat was towed the the yard. In hind sight, I should have inspected it to make sure.

The elusive 2nd water pump and custom sheave

The boat was towed to the yard on July 15, and the engine lowered in.  It took 23 days to finish the job.  The pump needed to be fitted, then a custom sheave needed to be made after failing to find one to fit.  Then the battery was dead.  Then the battery master switch need replacing.  Then the GM was out of town.  Pluming, wiring, heat exchanger, ignition.

Take off!  On Aug 10 I motored out of the yard and towards Nirvana's berth in Alameda.   Not quite sailing off into the sunset, but rather away from it to live on!

New engine, and the first sail in a year returning from the yard.

There is still work to do.  The newly powerful engine seems to be too much for the older belt drive transmission, so new belts are in order.  But first, lets go sailing!  

39 seconds of delta peace

Sometimes it's what is not happening that makes a moment most enjoyable.

Summer Sun in the Delta

It was a quick up and back trip this time, but still one of the highlights of our sailing year.  I sailed Nirvana to the California Delta for a week of relaxing, swimming, snacking and sailing the dinghy.  

But as can be expected, the sail to the delta was windy and a bit wild!  I single handed up the river on Sunday, July 3rd, covering the 70 miles in a bit over ten hours, so that's close to Nirvana's hull speed (plus some favorable current) the whole way!  Most of that time I had the main reefed and the yankee cut jib forward.  It's a super balanced sail plan for Nirvana in 15+ knots of wind.  I don't have a wind meter on the boat, but in the upper stretches of the San Joaquin after Antioch it was gusting to at least 25 knots.  

The final destination was Willow Berm Maria on the Mokelumne River.  With Nirvana snug at the dock, we swam in the river, fished, lounged in the shade and made several pilgrimages to the pool table and ice machine. 

Boats 'n boys

Will and his friend Josh joined me for a few days and they spent lots of time jumping off the boat, swimming, snacking and fishing.   I always feel Nirvana is really happy when there are kids aboard, jumping off her and swimming around and laying out on the deck in the sun to dry off.  It's not sailing, but its the kind of use that you gotta love.  

The best part of the day for me are the evenings, as the sun gets low and the breeze catches up with the heat and starts to cool things down.  The light gets soft, and the air quiet. Willow Berm's guest dock is ideal at this time, as it is a good 50 yards out in the river and thus away from the shore and bugs...that's right, no mosquitos!  

View fullsize

A delta evening

Three generations of Conneely's on Nirvana

My dad, Tom and brother Tom Jr drove up at the end of the week to join us for lunch, and my dad drove the boys home while brother Tom and I prepared to sail back to SF.

We took off on Friday afternoon and sailed up wind and on a tight reach in winds gusting to 25 knots.  We made it to New York slough outside Antioch after dark, anchored there for the night and then sailed the rest of the way home on Saturday.  We had good winds and tides for most of the way and resorted to motoring just a bit. Again, it was great sailing and Nirvana performed with grace and comfort - with just a little bit of spray as we crossed the slot on our way to Alameda.  

I was thrilled with how well the boat held up over the course of the trip.  Just some ripped batten pockets, lost battens, and a broken main leach line.   Only regret that we couldn't have spent more time up river.   Maybe next summer!  

Sun, Wind, Water, Wood

In the pictures, every boat looks fabulous.  The sun was so bright, the air clear, the wind strong.  The photos from the day have a crispness.  All the varnish looks clear and hard like glass. The paint creamy and rich.  Sails were stretched taught and straining, not billowing gently, but pushing and pulling like a team of fit oxen.  The flood tide brought in green water from the Pacific, and it’s surface sparkled like a tub of cut diamonds.  Waves broke into clean white foam, like snow balls shattering on lake ice. 

The fleet was full, and rich in history.  Boats with stories and souls.  Boats that live a life of luxury, and boats that earn their keep.  Boats that have sailed the world, and boats that have never left the Bay.  Some big and famous.  Some small and demure.  Yet all share a few things in common, they are craft.  Well designed, properly constructed, well maintained, classic and traditional, sailing craft.  Craft because their existence an vibrancy is an activity involving skill, doing things by hand and exercising these in making something to be enjoyed.

For 149 years, the Master Mariner’s Regatta has been a unique craft of San Francisco Bay sailors. 

While not run every one of those 149 years, it is perhaps one of the oldest sports competitions in the world.  Technically older than the America’s Cup. But unlike it, it was born from the spirited competition of working craft, not the yachts of the rich and famous.

It was first run in 1867 by the Boatmen’s Protective Association who staged a 4th of July race between the large coastal schooners and sailing scows of the San Francisco Bay. The race was really a show, for spectator enjoyment, and a chance for the working sailors and captains to display pride in their country, their boats, their companies, and to exhibit their skills as seamen.

It’s a history and tradition we all carry aboard when we set out to sail in the regatta.  And in doing so, we rejuvenate a comradery and spirit bound and fueled by sun, wind, water and wood.

You’re encouraged to view the excellent photography of the day at the links found here:

http://www.mastermariners.org/MMBA/calendar/regatta/

Some of the better photos of Nirvana from the day:

My favorite:  https://h2oshots.smugmug.com/2016-Sailing/2016-Master-Mariners/i-d3KKNhx/A

Standing at the helm:  http://www.rockskipper.com/Sailing-Galleries/2016-Master-Mariners-Regatta/Master-Mariners-Regatta/i-hrHDqkG/A

Before the Race – we should have left the reef in !  http://www.crayivp.com/Master-Mariners-15/i-S4XgD7p/A

Sneaking by a struggling competitor : http://www.rockskipper.com/Sailing-Galleries/2016-Master-Mariners-Regatta/Master-Mariners-Regatta/i-dLC2Nm4/A

A Nirvana Weekend! Save the dates: June 24, 25 & 26

Nirvana turns 70 this June and I would love to see all her (my?!) friends, for a chance to catch up and celebrate all good things in life that last:  family, friends, and yes!  even wood boats!

Here are the plans:

Friday, June 245pm - 8pm:  Happy Hour Aboard Nirvana @ Pier 1 1/2 in San Francisco.

Saturday, June 25 9am - 12 noon:  Brunch Aboard Nirvana @ Sausalito (exact location TBD).

Sunday, June 26 10am - 4pm:  Come visit Nirvana at the Annual Master Mariners Wood Boat Show @ the Corinthian Yacht Club, Tiburon.  ($20 per person).  It's worth it!  40+ wood boats on display.  

Signup for the Nirvana newsletter to get updates and I hope to see you in June if not before!  

Rain, rain and the malevolence of leaks from above.

Old wood boats leak.  From below and above.  Out here in Northern California, were we leave our boats in the water all year around, this truth hasn't been as apparent the last few years.  The multi year drought has deceived us.   

One might think leaks from below are the more threatening.  And they can be.  But psychologically, they are not particularly worrisome.  All my life I have gone out on boats that leak from below.  Some really leak.  Like water over your ankles after a long beat upwind in San Francisco's summer wind and chop.   But leaks from below are orderly in a way.  We expect them.  All that pressure trying to pushing water in make leaks progress from weeps to dips to flows and ultimately gushers.  The origin of the leaks is usually easy to hunt down and evaluate. 

But leaks from above have an madding insidiousness.  The culprits are gravity and the cohesion of water.  While the great Mystery Spot of Santa Cruz, where water is reported to run up hill, may be just a tourist trap, I swear that water can defy gravity.  It comes in from above and seems to meander and duck, run and shimmy around the beams and runners until it appears as a melancholy drip, drip, drip.   

My leak tracking tools are a flashlight and paper towel. Dab dry what seam of water is visible from the drip, shine a light on it and see from where it starts to swell.  Stop it in its tracks and start again.  Many go hiding along the backside of a a beam or flatten out along a broad surface.  And in true defiance to physics, somehow, the source never seems to provide nearly as much water as its final dip. 

And the there is never just a hole or something to plug.  It's in the seams.  Of course they appear all well to the eye and don't give any clue as to where exactly they are letting the water in.  To stop the leaking means to pull up whole sections of trim.  Drip, drip, drip.  

Tall Tales and Lasting Contrition, The Wild Wind, by Will of the crew. A New Years Resolution.

[The story you are about to read is based on real events, though the publisher (AKA dad) assures you that there are exaggerations, and that no children were hurt in the making of this tale.   However, as it surfaced many months after as a class writing project, the dad is overwhelmed by a strange brew of pride and shame.  He realizes that we do, in fact, put our children at risk in the pursuit of sharing with them the things we love.  The risk of physical and emotional injury is real out there.  I was humbled by reading this, and asked for forgiveness and promised to do better next time. ]

The Wild Wind, by Will

"Will!" my dad screamed, shattering by beautiful dream of great food in the morning looking out at the Swiss Alps.

"Ugh," I murmured with a tone of annoyance.

"I need you up here now!"  At that moment I remembered that I was on my Dad's boat.  I immediately snapped into first mate mode.  I slipped on my shoes, grabbed my knife, and sprinted out to the cabin to the cockpit.

I go out and the wind was howling at about twenty miles per hour.  I slowly turned my head toward the front of the boat.  i see the bright red spinnaker sail thrashing in the air.  My dad tried to hold it down but the autopilot did not work in the high wind and huge waves.  My dad ca;me back to the cockpit and said to m,"Go up front and sit on the sail until the wind dies."  I couldn't understand why he asked me to do that.  "Will! he screamed, "It's getting in the water!"  I sprinted up to a huge mess of red sail.  I gathered my wits, and the sail, and sat there.

While I was up there the waves started to spray onto the deck and covered by glasses.  I tried to reach for something to hold on to, but the bow only had two thin lines to keep you on.  More waves splash up and onto me.  Then out of nowhere, thoughts of falling off the boat into the cold water started to go through my head.  I felt my eyes starting to tear up, and then I started to cry.  I felt the tears roll down my face and fall on to my life jacket.  Then the sail started to whip around me.  It kept going left to right snapping painfully against my face and my chest.  The ears started to roll down my face faster and faster.  I thought to myself that the wind will never stop.  i felt a huge gust of wind knock me over.  Still crying I gathered up some courage, I stuffed the sail in a nook and ran to the cabin.  I grabbed a sail tie and a sail cover and ran as fast as I could to the front.  I struggled to the tie the knot, but in about thirty seconds of barely seeing anything I managed to tie it.  I took a huge breath of relief.  I could take my time to put the cover on.  As I snapped together the last button on the sail cover, I felt relief all over my body.  For just a second my face didn't hurt and my heart rate was slow.  For that second I forgot about everything and just relaxed.  I could taste the salt water on my lips.  I walked into the cabin and crawled into my bed and fell asleep instantly.  

Nirvana Loves Karl

Nirvana is beautiful and strong.  Long and lean like a great cat.  Her feline features are a powerful form with subtle curves.  A bendy flexible frame with plenty of muscle. In the context of her age, she is part victory girl, part pin up. Rita Hayworth.  44 feet with more than 10 feet of overhang, is something you can really only do right with wood.  Her wine glass underbody makes her a true vessel for both holding, and repelling. Her tones are warm aged mahogany with rusty red and purple blushes.

Karl is, well, at best a 70's industrialist.  Squat and short ended.  Aluminum and boxy.  An engineer's pride with stubby double keels and hard chines.  37 feet abruptly ended.  Welded, ridged strength.  Sturdy as a tank. Flat white paint all around.  Karl is derived from the old German word "karal" which means "husband" but also "the free one."  

So what's the attraction?  

Karl has soul.  Wrought back into him by Nike Steiger, who has been video blogging her adventure via Youtube, and her website Whitespotpirates.   I've been following Nike's vlog for a while now, drawn in by the honest emotional transparency of her experience with Karl and her efforts to turn her dream into a real thing.  Anyone who takes on a project boat, or an old boat, or a dream of doing something adventurous will immediately identify with her.   

She is into season 2, and starting to venture out and about.  Season one was mostly about her struggle to get Karl into sailing shape and hang on to her dream.  Her episodes are short and easy to watch.  I haven't yet come across a lot of good content about the emotional journey of owning a boat.  You hear the war stories everywhere, but not the stories of transformative journeys.  That's what makes Nike and Karl special.  That's why Nirvana loves Karl.  

Tis the Season...the Lighted Boat Parades are coming

Mark your calendars, there are a few lighted boat parades that, weather permitting, we may watch from the deck of Nirvana (at her slip or maybe from the water).

Note, Nirvana doesn't  have a great electrical system for powering lots of lights, so I am not planning to decorate and participate (unless I get some electrical engineering assistance).

If you are interested in coming along or better yet, encouraging me to go out, let me know by commenting to this post, or leaving a message here.

In Alameda there is the Dec 5th Lighted Boat parade sponsored by the Oakland YC which starts right in front our Nirvana's marina, so this is the one we are most likely to watch.

In SF there is the Dec 11th Decorated Boat parade sponsored by the St. Francis Yacht Club.

In Sausalito there is the Dec 12 Lighted Boat parade & fireworks.  The fireworks make this one worth watching from the water, so we are likely to bring the boat over.  If we don't take Nirvana over to watch from the water, there is always lots of options at the various Sausalito venues.

Can't Say I Owner Her

I own my car, my bike.  I've owned a house.  I owned my first sailboat, a Laser.  I've even owned Ruby, my beloved 1983 red Porsche 911 SC Targa.  But I cannot say I own Nirvana.  

I mean, I cannot speak or write the word "own" to describe my relationship to this boat.

It's a deep psychological thing.  My subconscious bubbles up to block the thought and prevent me from uttering it.  I have gotten the words out once or twice, but it felt so wrong, so awkward.

It's not due to a sense of shame.  I would have expected to be so proud to say, "I owner her." Rather, it is some deep sense that there is something there that rises to the level of a soul or spirit or personality.  I don't equate it to a human one, though I freely use the pronoun "her."  But not just because of nautical tradition.  Nirvana is feminine, feline like a great cat. Powerful and curvatious.  Fine featured and graceful.  

Bit it is not her looks that make her unique to me.  It's her soul.  Something that has emerged from her otherwise inanimate features and materials.  A whole that is greater than the parts that make up her hull, spars and machinery.  A body that is more than just her frames, planks, floors and decks. 

I know anthropomorphism is an innate human tendency.  And it is not quite that I am attributing human forms and qualities to her.   But if something innate can get into your psychology like this, then there is a there, there.  Right?

A Year of Sailing Nirvana

It's been a year since I assumed stewardship of Nirvana.  And what a fantastic year it has been!

My goal was to sail her as much as possible (knowing that meant ignoring the varnish!).  I wanted to have the benefit of really getting to know her and her structural integrity and sailing dynamics. By spring of 2015, I had logged 20+ sailing days and about 300 nautical miles (which is a lot for day sailing about the Bay).  I had done a few over nights at Angel Island, anchored off Sausalito and tied up on the city front.  We sailed in the 2015 Master Mariner's Regatta, placing 3rd in our division, and participated in the Wood Boat Show in June.

It has been a delight.  Nirvana is a 70 year old wood boat, with several generations of repairs and re-fittings, so everything one might say about her comes with plenty of caveats.  But she is structurally sound and shows her age gracefully, with a weep of water here, a bit of rust there and a hairline crack or two - just where you'd expect them.  Her savior, Robert Mickele, from whom I assumed stewardship, did a wonderful job bring her back into form.

Of course there were the usual sailboat things...cracked elbow on the engine cooling water return, which fried the starter motor.  All the fixing of which shifted the oil pressure gage return hose to rub on the fly wheel, sending oil all over the engine compartment.  But that's just regular boat stuff!  The sailing has been great!  

After determining that she was indeed in fine shape, the next goal was to figure out what she'd need to sail up to the Delta during the summer for a week long cruise.  By early summer I added an antique anchor roller (didn't want to mess up that beautiful bow silhouette!), sun shade, asymmetrical spinnaker, vang, extra on-deck ice chest, a rowing dinghy with a sail kit and tiller pilot.  

In July, Pia, Will and I departed Alameda to sail her to the Delta.  While we did have a bit of excitement with the spinnaker (Will had to become a human sail tie on the foredeck), my engineering of the vang was the only thing that fell short (besides my helmsmenship). An accidental jibe broke the boom. Nirvana's 1st major mishap.  Luckily no one was hurt - but a bit shaken as one would expect when something goes wrong on a 44 ft sloop with a 60 ft mast, a 19 ft boom and 700+ sq ft of sail.

It happened at Antioch and the municipal harbor took us in for the night.  I was able to bulk up on supplies the next day at the West Marine and Lowe's, and departed for the final destination, Willowberm Marina.  I repaired the boom during the week we spent at Willowberm.  Geeta and the crew caught up with me by car and we had a couple of nice dealt days.

I sailed Nirvana back single handed and got caught a bit unexpected in the slot (between Angel Island and Treasure Island) with 25+ gusts and a full main on a tight reach. Everything held!

I single handed her down to Redwood City for an overnight on Labor Day weekend with a couple of Master Mariner members, sailing back to Sausalito on Sunday so that I could take a friend's father visiting from Italy out on Monday, Labor day.  It  was a perfect day for sailing.  

More boom trouble kept Nirvana grounded for a few weeks in September and October, but we returned to the Bay to close out our first year with two days of sailing.  First a sail to, and overnight at anchor in Sausalito. Then an afternoon sail with some new friends who won a sail as part of school fundraiser.  

I sailed Nirvana back from Sausalito to Alameda under a full moon, with flat water and a steady breeze.  It was one of the most fantastic and magical sails of my life - the perfect ending to a perfect first year.  I'm smitten.  Now time to get to that varnish!

-Bill

Petrified

- to be numb or paralyze with astonishment, horror, or other strong emotion -  

I believe there is magic in the world.  Not the kind performed on stage with illusion and slight of hand, though that has a truth of its own, but the kind that occurs in life, in nature and when human experience transends knowledge and explanation. 

It might be a form of mysticism to some, or spirituality to others.  To have experiences is the key to finding it.  And there are means for turning experiences into this magic.  Mediums, channels.  I have found one.

It all starts with doing something that should petrify you.  

Buy an old wood boat!