[Public-List] Last, last Misery Trip of 2011

[Gordon Laco]

Oh I wasn't worried about the snow obscuring visibility... You know the old
saying "there's nothing for a tight spot like somebody else's boat".




On 05/01/12 6:43 PM, "PIM VAN DER TOORN" <toorn at rogers.com> wrote:

> Thanks Gord, a great read, it's like i was there! oh wait....I was!
 
I'll
> just add that the daytime high on Saturday was 9c/48f and on Sunday 3c/37f
> before any windchill factor, and there was plenty of wind. It was true Misery
> Cruise weather and the best sail of the season for me.
Gord's mention of the
> uncharted-yet-massively-visible navigation aid reminded me that as we
> approached this particularly nasty, shoal-laden stretch of the Bay we had a
> snow squall off our port quarter that continually threatened to overtake us -
> advance guard snowflakes streaked horizontally through the cockpit -
> visibility would have been reduced significantly, it had completely
> obscured the shoreline in that direction. It being my boat, and Gord being the
> Navigator (he bills himself too humbly as "simple crewperson"), I'm sure he
> would have encouraged a DR through the hazards had the squall caught us. And
> being half-frozen and eager to get somewhere warm I might have
> acquiesced!  I'm glad it eventually passed astern.
Can't wait until
> spring.
Pim 


________________________________
From: Gordon Laco
> <mainstay at csolve.net>
To: Alberg 30 Public List -- open to all
> <public-list at lists.alberg30.org> 
Sent: Wednesday, January 4, 2012 10:14:12
> PM
Subject: [Public-List] Last, last Misery Trip of 2011

Friends,

I will
> start this by pointing out that I know how irregular it is for a
simple
> crewperson to assume the responsibility of writing up a ship¹s log.
I was not
> in command on the Last, Last Misery Trip of 2011.  The
owner/skipper of the
> yacht we made the trip aboard was ­ yes, I¹m referring
to the owner of
> WINDWARD.

It occurs to me to be kind to him;  after all he was served
> SURPRISE well on
many occasions, usually in terrible weather because I rarely
> remembered to
invite him sailing until after the end of September. 
> Furthermore, he was
one of the leading men weilding hammer and saw after the
> call went out for
the barn-raising bee that threw the building up over TOUCH
> WOOD.  And he
came back repeatadly both to touch up the building, and to work
> on TW
herself.  Only three days ago he was working beside me cutting out
> and
fitting her decks (what a morale-boosting moment that was, seeing her
> bare
bones covered again at last).  Yes, I should be kind to him.  But for
> one
thing.  I threatened that if he didn¹t write to you about the Last,
> Last
Misery Trip.... I would.    So here I am.  There was a time when a
> shipmate
could throw a fair challenge down before a shipmate, and expect
> that
challenge to be taken up.  Well looked upon in that manner, what choice
> have
I but to assume that the challenge was thrown back to me.  Aye, I¹ll take
> it
up.  So here we go.

This fall, after much toiing and froing, Pim,
> WINDWARD¹s owner/skipper, and
I settled upon a date for the Last, Last Misery
> Trip of 2011.  For a time
it appeared that it would be possible for WINDWARD
> and SURPRISE to meet in
the cold Canadian autumn but something made me
> organize a business trip to
southern California, consequently I had to have
> SURPRISE hauled out early
this year so I wouldn¹t be distracted from what I
> was accidentally seeing on
the beaches around San Diego and Los Angeles by
> worrying about SURPRISE
freezing something off and sinking on me.

Also for a
> time, it appeared that WINDWARD¹s co-owner/skipper, Pim¹s brother
in law John,
> was going to join us, but somehow at the last moment he had to
do something
> like trim a hedge or winterize his lawnmower and he couldn¹t
come.  We
> reckoned that two might not be enough for a crew so I fell to
casting about
> for a scratch third to join the expedition on short notice.
Our friend Jon was
> snapped up like a fresh trout with the lure of Guinness
beer obscuring the
> reality of what he was really volunteering for.

It was important to apply
> subterfuge for a very good reason.  Earlier Misery
Trips the three of us had
> done on various occasions aboard SURPRISE had all
begun and ended in the balmy
> southern reaches of Georgian Bay in 44 degrees
north latitude.  WINDWARD makes
> her home in the port of Parry Sound, many
tenths of a degree north of us ­
> much much closer to the pole, polar bears
and other indications of late season
> misery.  By the time Jon clewed in to
the peril he was locked onto, it was too
> late to back out because I
volunteered to drive him in my car.

So, on a
> Friday evening we bid farewell to our families and drove north on
Highway
> 400... Called by some the Highway of Adventure due to the fact that
it skirts
> one of the finest cruising coasts in the world.  We set and made
a rendezvous
> at Wellington¹s Pub in Parry Sound, where the comely waitresses
sling foaming
> jars of Kilkenny and Guinness beer and serve the best prime
rib between
> Toronto and Baffin Island.  As the prime rib, the beer and
whatever else I
> could get my hands on was sliding down my throat,  I noticed
a slight
> nervousness in our skipper.  (Pim, I did threaten that my version
of this
> story might cast you in a different light than you might prefer)
Clearly, he
> wanted to cast off lines and set sail for the Œoutside¹ as
sailors of our
> coast refer to The Void.  Thinking swiftly, I reckoned he¹d
cottoned onto my
> plan to stay in a hotel the first night and sail in the
morning rather than
> spend a night at the marina in an unheated Alberg 30
with the frigid air
> misted with the snoring breath of my companions.  Even
more urgently, I wished
> to avoid the horror of the morning visit to the
head, where the close confines
> of an A30¹s head compartment would create one
of the most fear fogs known to
> northern sailors.... I¹m referring to the
rising mist create by hot urine
> hitting a toilet bowl whose temperature is
just about freezing...a malignant
> mist that has no place to go but up into
it¹s creator¹s face.  Urgh.

We
> didn¹t go to a hotel.  We went back to the boat.  After much grumbling we
all
> turned in.  I slept well but I heard complaints in the morning about
snoring. 
> I can¹t imagine where that came from.

In the morning we were driven from our
> sleeping bags by the cold, each
braved the horrid rising mist, then set about
> preparing WINDWARD  for her
expedition.  Pim displayed admirable courage
> letting us drive into town to
have a hearty breakfast in a restaurant ­ I
> could have bolted and headed for
home and warm wife in a bed, but although the
> prospect was hard to resist i
stayed with the project and went back to
> WINDWARD.

Away we went Saturday morning, casting furtive glances at the
> Canadian Coast
Guard establishment at the entrance to the harbour half
> expecting (hoping?)
that an aggressively handled red vessel would come
> charging out and demand
where the heck we thought we were going this late in
> the season....it didn¹t
happen, alas.

We set a course across Parry Sound
> itself, heading for Killbear Point and
soon enough Red Rock came into sight. 
> Red Rock deserves some description.
It¹s huge, built like a Martello Tower
> (google it) surmounted by a
helicopter landing pad.  It¹s one of the great
> lighthouses of the Great
Lakes ­ visible for miles and a comfort to
> generations of anxious mariners.
Sadly for us it is preceded, on the course we
> were steering, by a derelict
lighthouse no longer considered a working aid to
> navigation, that for the
last twenty five odd years has panicked me as I tried
> to find this clearly
visible land mark on the chart.  Some day I will remember
> to mark it
manually so that next time I don¹t feel that clenching sphincter of
> Œmaybe
we¹re not were I think we are¹ fear that all sailors know at one time
> or
other, some more often than others.

Once well out of the Sound, we eased
> sheets somewhat and bore away for
Franklin Island.  Does that name sound
> familiar?  It should.  Franklin
Island was named in 1821 for Sir John
> Franklin, who in or about that year
passed through these waters on his way
> overland to the arctic looking for
the North West Passage on foot.  Yes, he
> had nearly two thousand miles to
walk and canoe before he got up there, but he
> gave it the old Royal Navy
try.  (google his name, you¹ll see what happened to
> him on his next try...)

Franklin Island, the name and the connotation chilled
> us as much as the
freezing rain that had begun to fall.  WINDWARD close
> reached at over 6
knots under working jib and full main, savaging the waves
> that were marching
in from the Outside past Red Rock, every second or third
> pitching up over us
in the form of freezing cold spray.  This wasn¹t a
> problem, however.
WINDWARD is equipped with a fine dodger and that sheltered
> us completely.
One of the features of this dodger is that it is made with
> circular
Œwindows¹ port and starboard.  Jon, sitting to leeward in complete
> ease,
commented that lounging there with all the discomfort missing him was
> like
sitting in an air liner looking out the port.

This saddened me.  I
> reflected on the decline my principals have made in the
past ten years.  There
> was a time when I despised fibre glass hulls,
standing headroom, inboard
> engines, wheel steering, aluminium spars, heads,
full length bunks with
> mattresses... And now here I was with all those
things with a dodger added in
> to make my comfort complete.  I opened my
jacket and stood up to face the
> reality of sailing in the fall in Georgian
Bay.... I didn¹t like it and sat
> down behind it again; trying to cope with
the secret coveting for one of these
> things for SURPRISE.

By mid afternoon we¹d reached up leaving Franklin to
> starboard and began the
all to familiar second guessing of the eye-ball
> navigator sailing in the
Thirty Thousand Islands.  The night before I¹d
> declared Œdon¹t worry Pim,
it¹ll be easy as pie.  We¹ll just reach up till
> Hannah Rock is abeam, turn
ninety degrees to starboard and run down into the
> apparently blind dead end
cove with waves breaking on rocks all around.  At
> the last minute the
channel leading south will appear and we¹ll slip in easy
> as pie.... We¹ll be
at anchor sipping Demerara Rum before you know it¹.   
> Well now here we were
in the reality of reaching at high speed in biggish
> waves past black rocks
being covered and uncovered with big waves.  Is that
> one Lowther Rock or
Hannah?  No, that one must be Hannah.  Are you sure?  It
> has to be.... We
all tried not to think too much about how often conversations
> like that must
have gone on just before shipwrecks...

We made our turn, and
> surfed down running into what always appears to be
certain disaster... But low
> and behold the channel appeared just when our
nerves were ready to break
> (ŒLet¹s go back and try the next cove¹ was I¹m
sure just on all our lips).  We
> dumped the sails and glided into the
absolute magic of one of the most secure
> anchorages I¹ve ever seen.  Gone
was the howling wind, grey waves and black
> rocks.  We ghosted in through
crystal clear water (yes those are house sized
> rocks sliding by beneath us)
with knarled jack pine trees and Georgian Bay
> Rock.  We went in through the
narrower narrows and into the pool at the end,
> there dropping two hooks.  My
cell phone caught a signal so I phoned Caroline
> to tell her we¹d got there
safely.  A good sailor herself, she¹d already been
> looking at the weather
radar on line and was able to confirm that the west
> wind was going to go
north by morning.  We put the second anchor to the north
> and sure enough
that¹s the one we were swinging by in the morning.

Pim served
> drinks all round and we toasted the end of the 2011 sailing
season.  We sat
> admiring the savage beauty of the rock and pine... Jon said
loudly ŒI want to
> see penguins¹.

It got cold that night, it rained, and for a time the wind
> howled, but we
were quite comfortable after our feast and story telling
> session.  In the
morning, Pim produced scrambled eggs with hot sausage and
> coffee ­
wonderful.  It was a shame to leave but after recovering our anchors
> we
glided out toward the tumoult.

The sail home was everything we hoped for. 
> The wind had enough north in it
that after we turned east below the southern
> end of Franklin we were still
reaching.  We dipped the rail occasionally but
> to put it simply we galloped
home to Sound Boatworks.  We stripped her rig for
> haul out, packed our gear
then drove home down to Midland.  I soaked in the
> bathtub for 45 minutes
before I fully thawed out.

What a terrific end to the
> 2011 sailing season ­ can¹t wait for spring.
Thanks Pim -  your WINDWARD is a
> great boat and I can¹t wait to try SURPRISE
out pacing her.

Gord  #426
> Surprise



_______________________________________________
These businesses
> support your 
> Association:
http://www.alberg30.org/store/A30supporters.html
Please support
> them.
_______________________________________________
Public-List mailing
> list
Public-List at lists.alberg30.org
http://lists.alberg30.org/listinfo.cgi/pub
> lic-list-alberg30.org
_______________________________________________
These
> businesses support your
> Association:
http://www.alberg30.org/store/A30supporters.html
Please support
> them.
_______________________________________________
Public-List mailing
> list
Public-List at lists.alberg30.org
http://lists.alberg30.org/listinfo.cgi/pub
> lic-list-alberg30.org




 1325807433.0