Martin, This past year I have been single handling my Hunter 380 which has furling main and jib. I also have all the necessary electronics and radar. I've made several five day trips and several day trips between ports. After racing with a crew of five, this has been a kick--I've enjoyed every minute. Here are things to consider. Can you dock the boat in strange places? Can you get your dock lines ready along with your fenders? What to eat underway? For long trips you don't want to get tired by not eating. Of course you need all your charts but can you manage them in the cockpit? For me what clothes to wear was a decision point--I get cold easily at my age. How to stay in touch with family? I think the Cell phone is better than a flight plan. Doing it on my own has added much to my dreaming and enjoyment of the boat. To Phil: I've written a story about my trip to Poulsbo from Bellingham and back by myself. In the fog. (I'm always in the fog....) Would you be interested in it? My best to you all, Les
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Les Blackwell
Martin, This past year I have been single handling my Hunter 380 which has furling main and jib. I also have all the necessary electronics and radar. I've made several five day trips and several day trips between ports. After racing with a crew of five, this has been a kick--I've enjoyed every minute. Here are things to consider. Can you dock the boat in strange places? Can you get your dock lines ready along with your fenders? What to eat underway? For long trips you don't want to get tired by not eating. Of course you need all your charts but can you manage them in the cockpit? For me what clothes to wear was a decision point--I get cold easily at my age. How to stay in touch with family? I think the Cell phone is better than a flight plan. Doing it on my own has added much to my dreaming and enjoyment of the boat. To Phil: I've written a story about my trip to Poulsbo from Bellingham and back by myself. In the fog. (I'm always in the fog....) Would you be interested in it? My best to you all, Les
Single handed
Les- I'd be very interested in receiving a copy also of your trip if you don't mind. I have a O'Day 28 that we sail on the coast of Maine where conditions are similar to yours I believe. I'm adding a Furuno 1623 radar this spring mainly to spot other boats in the fog. Have had no trouble in fog so far as we do know OUR position constantly from the Garmin 182C chartplotter plus studying the areas we sail in carefully ahead of time. FYI I find the Maptech waterproof chartbooks very good to keep in the cockpit. Plus the details are much sharper on that paper than the standard chartbooks. Your points on docking singlehanded are good - I just practiced a lot in our cove by myself doing close turns, backing, etc. and most of all - approaching slow. Regards - Ron Richardson "Wild Flower"
Les- I'd be very interested in receiving a copy also of your trip if you don't mind. I have a O'Day 28 that we sail on the coast of Maine where conditions are similar to yours I believe. I'm adding a Furuno 1623 radar this spring mainly to spot other boats in the fog. Have had no trouble in fog so far as we do know OUR position constantly from the Garmin 182C chartplotter plus studying the areas we sail in carefully ahead of time. FYI I find the Maptech waterproof chartbooks very good to keep in the cockpit. Plus the details are much sharper on that paper than the standard chartbooks. Your points on docking singlehanded are good - I just practiced a lot in our cove by myself doing close turns, backing, etc. and most of all - approaching slow. Regards - Ron Richardson "Wild Flower"
Single handed
Les- I'd be very interested in receiving a copy also of your trip if you don't mind. I have a O'Day 28 that we sail on the coast of Maine where conditions are similar to yours I believe. I'm adding a Furuno 1623 radar this spring mainly to spot other boats in the fog. Have had no trouble in fog so far as we do know OUR position constantly from the Garmin 182C chartplotter plus studying the areas we sail in carefully ahead of time. FYI I find the Maptech waterproof chartbooks very good to keep in the cockpit. Plus the details are much sharper on that paper than the standard chartbooks. Your points on docking singlehanded are good - I just practiced a lot in our cove by myself doing close turns, backing, etc. and most of all - approaching slow. Regards - Ron Richardson "Wild Flower"
Les- I'd be very interested in receiving a copy also of your trip if you don't mind. I have a O'Day 28 that we sail on the coast of Maine where conditions are similar to yours I believe. I'm adding a Furuno 1623 radar this spring mainly to spot other boats in the fog. Have had no trouble in fog so far as we do know OUR position constantly from the Garmin 182C chartplotter plus studying the areas we sail in carefully ahead of time. FYI I find the Maptech waterproof chartbooks very good to keep in the cockpit. Plus the details are much sharper on that paper than the standard chartbooks. Your points on docking singlehanded are good - I just practiced a lot in our cove by myself doing close turns, backing, etc. and most of all - approaching slow. Regards - Ron Richardson "Wild Flower"
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Les Blackwell
Ron, hope this doesn't bore you
Ron, this was a local (Puget Sound) trip I made by myself. You might want to find a chart to follow my course. The Swinomish channel is only about 20 yards wide in some places--I get nervous when I see Seagulls walking on water. Enjoy--if you have questions let me know Les From Bellingham to Poulsbo by boat Back To the Future A philosopher once said that half the world lies and the other half doesn't tell the truth. You might keep that in mind when you read this account of a trip from Bellingham to Poulsbo to meet with a friendly group of sailors. My vehicle of choice was my beloved 1999 Hunter 380 (37 feet) sailboat named Trumpeter (after the local swans) I left on Thursday of last week (November 4, 2004) at 10:30 in fairly thick fog. I really enjoyed myself using the GPS and the radar. Piece of cake except I did not see all the damn crab pots, logs and other crap until I was almost on them--you had to stay alert even in deep water. The fog lasted until I reached Guemes channel and the start of the Swinomish channel way out by Anacortes. I'm glad the fog lifted, that channel is not very wide. Going through the slough during daylight (more on this later) was not a problem and it is still one of my favorite routes. It used to be that you would look into eyes of a cow here and there--now you look into people's main windows of their homes. Got to the south end just past La Conner and went through the Hole in the Wall; then westward toward Whidbey. No problem, line up the two range markers and stay in the middle. Once out of the confines of the channel, I hugged the Whidbey side until I got to Strawberry point and then headed to Camano Island. More crab pots—there were all were all over the place. Then it becomes boredom city--put the boat on autopilot and look at houses. First there are houses on the beach and then houses on the cliffs. Then back on the beach and again on the cliffs. Mostly summer homes, not much architecture. And cold. Jeeez, it was very cold. I had regular underwear, long underwear, regular pants, and then fleece pants on top. Three shirts, hooded sweatshirt and a heavy jacket. I approached Langley on the east side of Whidbey Island and it was getting dark. I looked for Ben, my favorite curmudgeon and Port official, but he wasn’t around. Pity—at our age we get to talk personal health issues. Langley is a delightful town with interesting shops, a great pub, a tasty bakery and several fine restaurants. I ate too much at the Greek one—shades of My Big Fat Greek Wedding. I ate lamb, what else. The next morning was fog again. Having done the fog bit the previous day, I started out somewhat jauntily but at slow speeds. Good thing; more crab pots. When I approached Clinton on the Whidbey side, I saw the required number of ferry boats and got out of their way. It is always nice to see the Washington State Ferries even in the fog. The VHF crackled and someone said it was lighter fog on the Edmonds side. It’s always nice to have the early morning fisherman to relay weather forecasts. And they were right, it was lighter and at the tank farm (Edmonds) I started to cross over to Appletree Cove. Another sailboat comes on the radio and informs us of a freighter coming from the south, but I don't see anything in the fog. This is four cups of coffee fog and I’ve only had one cup—no times to make a second cup. . So I'm really looking for something out of the south when the radio hisses on again. "We want to inform the fishing boat and the pleasure boat that we are a War Ship on a course of 140 degrees maintaining 10 knots." I looked over my shoulder and there it was....a big gray oiler. Well, at least they couldn't shoot me out of the waters. I plotted them and we were on a collision course so I suspect that they were talking to me as a pleasure boat. Here I am freezing my buns off, it's lumpy seas, no visibility, no wind, the boat is rolling uncomfortably and they call me a pleasure boat. What a miscalculation. I missed the war ship by going astern--I did think about raising my sails and demanding right of way but thought better of it. I remember the rules of tonnage and by that standard, they won. Also the Blackwell rules of the road: Don’t hit anyone and don’t let anyone hit you. I went astern. I finally find Port Madison and the entrance to Agate Pass. Much bigger homes than on Camano. Two red buoys way out in the middle--whatdoyoumeanIhavetokeepthemontheright!!! Damn poor place to put a buoy but I follow the rules. Around the corner to starboard and finally into Liberty Bay. Well, I docked Trumpeter at the Port of Poulsbo and my friends were there to help me tie up my boat. Easy run today in spite of the fog. The Port of Poulsbo has nice facilities and the cost of moorage including electricity is fair. Nice people. Saturday evening my friends and I went to a close by Italian restaurant. . This restaurant was wonderful--what a place. I had probably one of the best steaks I've had in ten years. I mean that. Outstanding place and food. I left the next morning after a great breakfast on one of the other boats. Thanks guys--you did well. It was my last meal of the day and had I known, I would have eaten more. It was about 9:30 or 10 when I reached the sound and headed north by northeast. Not much traffic on Sunday but a flock of little boats between Meadow Point and Richmond beach, obvious a race in progress. The sun actually came out for a time but it still was cold. I reached Sandy Point on Whidbey by 1:30 and I should've gone into Langley like I said I would do. The operative word here is should've. I didn't. I continued on toward home with visions of cats in my arms. Or around a wife. I was doing well, 7.2 knots, and had a slight wind at my back. So Trumpeter and I chugged slowly up the west side of Camano Island. Gawd, it is a long island when you are cold and bored. It was dusk when I entered the south channel and it was dark when I reached La Conner. I should've stayed in La Conner, but again that is the operative word, "should've". I was doing 8 knots plus but whatthehell; I'll be home soon. Now the slough is only so wide and I am careening through it with no visibility...no that is not correct. By La Conner I was getting tired so much so that I began to see double. Two of everything. Although in the dark two of the dark equals only more dark. It is when you see a flashing light that you see more flashing lights. And which one is the real one. I am going so fast that my GPS says there is a buoy ahead supposedly on my right and I look in the dark to see it going by! The worst part was near the north end. I see lights--a whole ton of lights that I don't know what they are about. Even dividing by 2 (seeing double) I still can't make it out and where does the channel go. I trust my GPS and stay somewhat in the channel. I finally figure out that the lights are the casinos over on the left side. I've never seen them before, however, I've also never done the slough in the dark before. I approached the big overhead traffic bridge and actually put the boat in reverse to slow down. I could see car lights. Lots of them. Have you ever noticed that many cars have four lights? Yup, which makes eight if you have double vision. Very exciting. Up ahead is the swing bridge for the train. Is it open, I can't see well enough to find out and there are a ton of red lights all over the place. There had to be eight or ten red lights on things going across the channel. What the hell, there is also a bright white light that is blinding what little eyesight that I have. I stopped the boat and peered into the darkness. I think I see the long wooden structure that holds the swing bridge. I ease slowly forward and practically put my hand on the wood structure to feel my way forward. The bridge is open. Hot damn. I ease through and see the row of green and red blinking lights that outline the northern extreme of the slough heading into Padilla Bay. It's a piece of cake now. I aim for the first group of red lights (I'm still seeing double) figuring that one of them has to be the real thing. When I reach that light I then head to the other side where there is a group of blinking green lights. I literally tack my way out of the slough going from one group of lights to the other. I'd have to say going through the slough in the dark with poor eyesight was one of the scariest things I've done in a long time. So this is how you get wisdom! What a dumb ass I can be at times. There is another problem. The March Point refinery is so bright with lights that my eyes won't adjust and I can't see Hat or Saddlebag Islands. Where are they? And directly ahead is a mass of white lights--it can only be an anchored tanker. I ease around the tanker--surprised that the Coast Guard wasn't around to tell me to get further away, and headed north. I finally could see Saddlebag and Guemes Islands. Now I have to find Samish Island but I am confused. There are more bright lights out here in the dark with a quick flashing red light. My charts don't show anything like that. Where am I? I finally stopped and took some sights and looked at the direction that I was going. At this rate I was going to hit Samish. Not good. So I made some course correction, set the autopilot and started to look at the white lights and flashing red one. It is another large tanker at anchor. Don't ask me why the flashing red light--probably means "Homeland Security--don't come near." I could see the glow of Bellingham and the tip of Samish became evident. Now I knew where I was (my old racing grounds) and I could put myself and the boat on autopilot. I finally had some cold cereal and some Halloween candy. But my destination was in sight. I got into Bellingham around eight and had troubles finding the entrance--again too many lights. It is obvious that my eyesight has deteriorated more than I want to acknowledge. What a pain. I also got colder than I wanted even though I had plenty of clothing on. I hear that the motorcycle folks have one-piece suits that you plug into a 12-volt lighter. Maybe! Light me up, Dad, I'm going to do another night trip. My wife, Lynn, met me at the dock and helped me tie up the boat. She was sorry she couldn't have gone. She asked me how the trip went and I told her, "a piece of cake." But I did it in one day and held Gabby my cat when I got home one day earlier. Monday has been gray fog the entire way--might have been easier--who knows. But I'm glad I went to Poulsbo and I'm glad to be home--and warm. What a trip.
Ron, this was a local (Puget Sound) trip I made by myself. You might want to find a chart to follow my course. The Swinomish channel is only about 20 yards wide in some places--I get nervous when I see Seagulls walking on water. Enjoy--if you have questions let me know Les From Bellingham to Poulsbo by boat Back To the Future A philosopher once said that half the world lies and the other half doesn't tell the truth. You might keep that in mind when you read this account of a trip from Bellingham to Poulsbo to meet with a friendly group of sailors. My vehicle of choice was my beloved 1999 Hunter 380 (37 feet) sailboat named Trumpeter (after the local swans) I left on Thursday of last week (November 4, 2004) at 10:30 in fairly thick fog. I really enjoyed myself using the GPS and the radar. Piece of cake except I did not see all the damn crab pots, logs and other crap until I was almost on them--you had to stay alert even in deep water. The fog lasted until I reached Guemes channel and the start of the Swinomish channel way out by Anacortes. I'm glad the fog lifted, that channel is not very wide. Going through the slough during daylight (more on this later) was not a problem and it is still one of my favorite routes. It used to be that you would look into eyes of a cow here and there--now you look into people's main windows of their homes. Got to the south end just past La Conner and went through the Hole in the Wall; then westward toward Whidbey. No problem, line up the two range markers and stay in the middle. Once out of the confines of the channel, I hugged the Whidbey side until I got to Strawberry point and then headed to Camano Island. More crab pots—there were all were all over the place. Then it becomes boredom city--put the boat on autopilot and look at houses. First there are houses on the beach and then houses on the cliffs. Then back on the beach and again on the cliffs. Mostly summer homes, not much architecture. And cold. Jeeez, it was very cold. I had regular underwear, long underwear, regular pants, and then fleece pants on top. Three shirts, hooded sweatshirt and a heavy jacket. I approached Langley on the east side of Whidbey Island and it was getting dark. I looked for Ben, my favorite curmudgeon and Port official, but he wasn’t around. Pity—at our age we get to talk personal health issues. Langley is a delightful town with interesting shops, a great pub, a tasty bakery and several fine restaurants. I ate too much at the Greek one—shades of My Big Fat Greek Wedding. I ate lamb, what else. The next morning was fog again. Having done the fog bit the previous day, I started out somewhat jauntily but at slow speeds. Good thing; more crab pots. When I approached Clinton on the Whidbey side, I saw the required number of ferry boats and got out of their way. It is always nice to see the Washington State Ferries even in the fog. The VHF crackled and someone said it was lighter fog on the Edmonds side. It’s always nice to have the early morning fisherman to relay weather forecasts. And they were right, it was lighter and at the tank farm (Edmonds) I started to cross over to Appletree Cove. Another sailboat comes on the radio and informs us of a freighter coming from the south, but I don't see anything in the fog. This is four cups of coffee fog and I’ve only had one cup—no times to make a second cup. . So I'm really looking for something out of the south when the radio hisses on again. "We want to inform the fishing boat and the pleasure boat that we are a War Ship on a course of 140 degrees maintaining 10 knots." I looked over my shoulder and there it was....a big gray oiler. Well, at least they couldn't shoot me out of the waters. I plotted them and we were on a collision course so I suspect that they were talking to me as a pleasure boat. Here I am freezing my buns off, it's lumpy seas, no visibility, no wind, the boat is rolling uncomfortably and they call me a pleasure boat. What a miscalculation. I missed the war ship by going astern--I did think about raising my sails and demanding right of way but thought better of it. I remember the rules of tonnage and by that standard, they won. Also the Blackwell rules of the road: Don’t hit anyone and don’t let anyone hit you. I went astern. I finally find Port Madison and the entrance to Agate Pass. Much bigger homes than on Camano. Two red buoys way out in the middle--whatdoyoumeanIhavetokeepthemontheright!!! Damn poor place to put a buoy but I follow the rules. Around the corner to starboard and finally into Liberty Bay. Well, I docked Trumpeter at the Port of Poulsbo and my friends were there to help me tie up my boat. Easy run today in spite of the fog. The Port of Poulsbo has nice facilities and the cost of moorage including electricity is fair. Nice people. Saturday evening my friends and I went to a close by Italian restaurant. . This restaurant was wonderful--what a place. I had probably one of the best steaks I've had in ten years. I mean that. Outstanding place and food. I left the next morning after a great breakfast on one of the other boats. Thanks guys--you did well. It was my last meal of the day and had I known, I would have eaten more. It was about 9:30 or 10 when I reached the sound and headed north by northeast. Not much traffic on Sunday but a flock of little boats between Meadow Point and Richmond beach, obvious a race in progress. The sun actually came out for a time but it still was cold. I reached Sandy Point on Whidbey by 1:30 and I should've gone into Langley like I said I would do. The operative word here is should've. I didn't. I continued on toward home with visions of cats in my arms. Or around a wife. I was doing well, 7.2 knots, and had a slight wind at my back. So Trumpeter and I chugged slowly up the west side of Camano Island. Gawd, it is a long island when you are cold and bored. It was dusk when I entered the south channel and it was dark when I reached La Conner. I should've stayed in La Conner, but again that is the operative word, "should've". I was doing 8 knots plus but whatthehell; I'll be home soon. Now the slough is only so wide and I am careening through it with no visibility...no that is not correct. By La Conner I was getting tired so much so that I began to see double. Two of everything. Although in the dark two of the dark equals only more dark. It is when you see a flashing light that you see more flashing lights. And which one is the real one. I am going so fast that my GPS says there is a buoy ahead supposedly on my right and I look in the dark to see it going by! The worst part was near the north end. I see lights--a whole ton of lights that I don't know what they are about. Even dividing by 2 (seeing double) I still can't make it out and where does the channel go. I trust my GPS and stay somewhat in the channel. I finally figure out that the lights are the casinos over on the left side. I've never seen them before, however, I've also never done the slough in the dark before. I approached the big overhead traffic bridge and actually put the boat in reverse to slow down. I could see car lights. Lots of them. Have you ever noticed that many cars have four lights? Yup, which makes eight if you have double vision. Very exciting. Up ahead is the swing bridge for the train. Is it open, I can't see well enough to find out and there are a ton of red lights all over the place. There had to be eight or ten red lights on things going across the channel. What the hell, there is also a bright white light that is blinding what little eyesight that I have. I stopped the boat and peered into the darkness. I think I see the long wooden structure that holds the swing bridge. I ease slowly forward and practically put my hand on the wood structure to feel my way forward. The bridge is open. Hot damn. I ease through and see the row of green and red blinking lights that outline the northern extreme of the slough heading into Padilla Bay. It's a piece of cake now. I aim for the first group of red lights (I'm still seeing double) figuring that one of them has to be the real thing. When I reach that light I then head to the other side where there is a group of blinking green lights. I literally tack my way out of the slough going from one group of lights to the other. I'd have to say going through the slough in the dark with poor eyesight was one of the scariest things I've done in a long time. So this is how you get wisdom! What a dumb ass I can be at times. There is another problem. The March Point refinery is so bright with lights that my eyes won't adjust and I can't see Hat or Saddlebag Islands. Where are they? And directly ahead is a mass of white lights--it can only be an anchored tanker. I ease around the tanker--surprised that the Coast Guard wasn't around to tell me to get further away, and headed north. I finally could see Saddlebag and Guemes Islands. Now I have to find Samish Island but I am confused. There are more bright lights out here in the dark with a quick flashing red light. My charts don't show anything like that. Where am I? I finally stopped and took some sights and looked at the direction that I was going. At this rate I was going to hit Samish. Not good. So I made some course correction, set the autopilot and started to look at the white lights and flashing red one. It is another large tanker at anchor. Don't ask me why the flashing red light--probably means "Homeland Security--don't come near." I could see the glow of Bellingham and the tip of Samish became evident. Now I knew where I was (my old racing grounds) and I could put myself and the boat on autopilot. I finally had some cold cereal and some Halloween candy. But my destination was in sight. I got into Bellingham around eight and had troubles finding the entrance--again too many lights. It is obvious that my eyesight has deteriorated more than I want to acknowledge. What a pain. I also got colder than I wanted even though I had plenty of clothing on. I hear that the motorcycle folks have one-piece suits that you plug into a 12-volt lighter. Maybe! Light me up, Dad, I'm going to do another night trip. My wife, Lynn, met me at the dock and helped me tie up the boat. She was sorry she couldn't have gone. She asked me how the trip went and I told her, "a piece of cake." But I did it in one day and held Gabby my cat when I got home one day earlier. Monday has been gray fog the entire way--might have been easier--who knows. But I'm glad I went to Poulsbo and I'm glad to be home--and warm. What a trip.
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