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    Kingston to Hamilton - part 2

    TUESDAY JULY 4, 2017:  Trenton to Cobourg

    We start the day with a run along the streets of Trenton near the marina.  Then we have some food and set out for the day.

    ​Today, we get to traverse the Murray Canal.  To sail/motor from Kingston to Hamilton, you have two options.  You can go via Lake Ontario, around Prince Edward County, or you can go the back way, which takes you to Trenton and then through the Murray Canal.  Obviously, we chose the latter.  The Canal has two swing bridges, and we manage to arrive at each in time for them to open.  Unlike Kingston and Burlington, they open these bridges when enough people pile up, rather than at any set time.  Normally, the Canal has a fee of $5, which you toss in as you pass by the second bridge.  However, this being Canada 150, the Trent-Severn Waterway is free this year, and the Murray Canal stands at the start of the Waterway, so no fee for us.  Pity; I was looking forward to seeing if I could get the money in the basket instead of the drink.  Ah well, we saved some money (and some dunking).

    Once through the Canal, we find ourselves once again upon Lake Ontario, on a surface still as glass.  No wind, little traffic--a freighter and a few far off fishing vessels--and lots of nice sun.  Luckily, Freedom comes equipped with both dodger and bimini, so we have plenty of shade.  There's a section between the dodger and the back of the bimini that comes off, allowing for the traveler rigged up to the boom to move freely, but as we're pretty much stuck with motoring today, we can keep the full shade cover up.

    Mike tries out his new fishing rod today.  There are two weeks each summer when you don't need a fishing licence, and the first week of July is one of them (or so Mike tells me).  So he takes it out of the package, gets it all set up, picks out a nice bit of bait (also from a new package), and throws his first cast.  Whereupon, he discovers the difference between the cast buttons on the rods he grew up (easy to use) with and these fancy new fandangled contraptions (finicky to the newbie).  Pretty red fishing twine shoots out, tangles, and generally makes a mess over the side of the boat.  Nothing gets tangled in the propeller and he eventually re-spools it all, and that's the end of today's fishing exercise.

    Eventually, a little breeze does appear--blowing directly from the west, where we're heading.  At this point, we do a little racing with a butterfly, and it wins, hands down.  Mike's comment: "I didn't know they could fly at five knots, and against the wind!"  Whereupon, the butterfly leaves us in its tiny wake.

    As we motor along, Mike goes below for something, then calls up for me to stop the boat.  He's found a bunch of water and we need to find out where it's come from.  After a bit of looking, Mike discovers it's from the toilet, and that it's important to make sure the valve is down when not in use.  Thankfully, the water is just from the lake and not from the holding tank, so it just takes some mopping up, rather than any haz-mat suits.  No harm done, and we start up the engine and move along.

    Mike radios ahead to Cobourg Marina to confirm our reservation, and they let us know where to head.  The Marina has a bunch of slips free, but for some reason, puts us beside another boat instead of in any of the empty double-slips.  We manage to get in on the second attempt without hitting anything, thanks to the help of a couple of nice gentlemen from nearby boats.  When they ask why we chose that spot, I reply: "It's the one they gave us."

    The facilities at Cobourg are nice, although they have their computers down for maintenance, so the girl keeps asking us to bear with her.  It's not like we have anywhere else to go, so we just smile and joke with her.  The waterfront around here is quite pretty.
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    WEDNESDAY JULY 5, 2017:  Cobourg to Whitby

    ​Cobourg has a nice clocktower down by the waterfront.  It marks every hour.  Mike hears the 05:00 chimes and pretty much gives up on sleeping after that.  So we have breakfast ready before 7 am.  We motor over to the fuel dock and top up on diesel, discovering that Jeff did, in fact, know his facts when he said a tank should last about 48 hours.  We've motored about 18 hours so far.  Then we take some time to practice docking, seeing as the marina has so many vacant slips.  A nice man runs up to help bring us in to one dock, and when we explain that we're just practicing, he grins and agrees we have chosen a good time and place, then leaves us to it.

    We set out shortly after that, heading toward Bowmanville.  Mike's sister Pat and her family live in Bowmanville, and we've arranged to pull into the marina there (VERY small and shallow, so we can't go in far) and pick up whoever's around for a little ride around 13:00.  When we arrive, we find Pat, but neither daughter, so it's just the three of us.  The wind chooses this moment to work in our favour, and we get the sails up, reaching around 6.7 knots.  Pat steers for a bit and we have a very nice visit.

    We drop Pat back off at the entrance to the marina a couple of hours later and continue on toward Whitby, happily mostly on sail as the wind, for the most part, stays blowing our way.  Darlington power plant has a restricted zone (thankfully marked on charts) that we navigate around, and as we get closer to Whitby, water traffic becomes a bit heavier (like, three sailboats).  We do not have any reservations for this night, but Whitby Marina has a spot for us.  Getting is tricky, as three marinas share the entrance, and we apparently arrive around race time (or something), so we not only have to negotiate the channel in to the marinas, but also a string of small sailboats--under sail--coming out of that same channel.  No one crashes, no one gets hurts, and everyone stays on their respective vessels, so we all win today.
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    Darlington, from a safe distance, outside the restricted zone

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    THURSDAY JULY 6, 2017:  Whitby to Bluffer's Park

    We start today with a run around the waterfront.  Nice enough area, and we stop at a convenience store for Mike to buy new sunglasses (2nd pair of the trip, as the first broke--technically, this is the 3rd pair: the ones he brought from home mysteriously disappeared on the first day).

    Do a bunch of motoring today, sharing the lake with a freighter and some fishing boats off on the horizon.  Today has pretty much no wind, and our knot reader registers a whopping .2 knots (made it to .7 a few minutes later).  So at one point, Mike decides it's a good time to stop for a swim.  He slips over the back into the dinghy, then jumps into the lake.  The very cold lake.  I just sit and wait in the dinghy and help him back in a few minutes later.  Then we continue on.

    ​We see some really neat cloud formations today.  We're trying to learn to read the clouds and so have an idea on upcoming weather without having to rely on forecasts.  Have a handy little book and everything.  The weather patterns we read today suggest tomorrow might have some unsettled times, but the rest of today should remain mostly quiet (coincidentally, that's what the predicted forecast says too, which, already having seen the one might might have influenced the reading of the other).

    Pull into Bluffer's Park (which is quite pretty) after radioing ahead to find our designated dock for the night.  Getting to the marina office involves navigating a maze of piers and locked gates, but we manage it eventually.  Then we stop at the pub at the marina for supper.  Nice place, even has houses on the water--not house boats, but actual houses built specifically to float right there at the edge of the shore.  Pretty funky (we saw one advertised for sale later for about $1 000 000, so maybe not our next house).
    FRIDAY JULY 7, 2017:  Bluffer's Park to Lakeshore Promenade

    The wind picks up in the early hours, and we have a decision to make.  Originally, we had thought to make it to Hamilton today, but weather reports (and yesterday's clouds, of course) suggest rain and thunderstorms.  So, do we stay at Bluffer's Park, try to make it to Hamilton, or see if there's somewhere in between we try to get to?  Maybe Port Credit or Toronto Outer Harbour?  Mike calls ahead to Port Credit, but it turns out they're under water and have no open slips.  There's a marina around the corner that specialises in transient docking, but they're not answering the phone.  Outer Harbour has a spot, if we want, and we decide to give it a try.

    The wind settles some as we head out.  We even brave putting up the sails, but then Mike sees the line of weather ahead, and we pull down the mainsail, using only the jib--easy to haul in without having to go up front if things turn nasty.  Mike decides to call another marina (the Port book Jeff and Marie left has every marina and transient dock on Lake Ontario, including contact information).  Lakeshore Promenade in Mississauga sounds very inviting and they have a spot.  So we continue heading in the direction of Toronto, watching the line of rain hugging the shore.  And it stays there, leaving the Lake free from precipitation right through to Mississauga.

    It takes us less than three hours to reach the Promenade and we dock and batten down the hatches.  And spend a lovely day in the calmest non-storm you've ever seen.  The marina has beautiful paths all around it that we explore and we spend a nice, quiet day, warm and dry.​
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    SATURDAY JULY 8, 2017:  Lakeshore Promenade to Hamilton

    Set off early, knowing we still have a ways to go (boat-wise--you can't be in a hurry when sailing or motoring).  Happily, today has wind in our favour again, and we sail most of the way in.  I get Freedom up to 7.7 knots, and reading off the numbers, I feel like the crew of Star Trek in Star Trek IV trying to reach warp 10 ("Seven point two, seven point three, seven point five! ...).  This is the day I discover that Freedom has more stability than Freedom Four-Two.  Happy day.

    We have more fishing boats to maneuver around today, and a few sailboats too, as well as a cargo freighter that does not head toward the bridge, as I thought it would, but instead pulls in just ahead of us to the unloading dock near Bronte.  Anyway, we reach Burlington Bridge with no difficulties, and temporarily haul in the sails to get through the lift bridge.

    And then we reach the Bay, and the wind goes nuts, as it usually does in the Bay.  Unpredictable and capricious.  I leave it to Mike to take the wheel, and he shows what this sailboat can really do, having no irrational fear of canting at sharp angles (unlike me, but I don't panic--today).  It's race day for the little boats, and with some creative tacking, we find a way around them.

    ​We reach MacDonald Marine much faster than we ever did in Freedom Four-Two, pull up to the masting dock, and go find Sandy, the owner.  He points out some empty docks, and suggests which one we might like best.  It's not as sheltered as our previous slips, being closer to the Bay, but it should do.

    We celebrated with ice cream from Hutch's, just up the street.  Welcome to your new home, Freedom​!
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    Kingston to Hamilton - part 1

    SUNDAY JULY 2, 2017:  Arrival in Kingston

    Arrive in Kingston via train.  Drop off supplies (mostly clothing) at boat.  Jeff and Marie, previous owners of Freedom, help us motor to the fuel dock at the marina to top up the diesel and empty the head so that we know the procedures and locations of these important features.  Then they take us to downtown Kingston, first for lunch at the waterfront, then for victuals for our journey.  Jeff takes Mike to Canadian Tire to buy a fishing rod while Marie shows me last minute details around the boat, such as how to work the alcohol fueled stove.

    They return home, leaving Mike and I to explore (boat and city) and have a bit of supper.  We settle in for our first night on the boat while it rains overnight.  So far, no leaks.
    MONDAY JULY 3, 2017:  Kingston to Trenton

    Jeff and Marie arrive around 8:30.  Jeff will come with us for this first leg of the journey--in part because he just loves the boat, and in part, to help us become acquainted with Freedom and to answer any questions we might have about the running of our new floating cottage--and Marie will pick him up in Trenton.

    To get out of this Kingston marina, we must pass under a lift bridge that opens on the hour when required.  So Mike gets the motor running and does a little practice maneuvering in the harbour while we wait for the clock.  Jeff likes everything just so (read really OCD) and he has a set way of doing things.  This includes getting the bumpers up and stowed ASAP for a long journey.  I'm used to just popping them up on the deck, making sure they stay clear of all the lines.  I'm also used to keeping the emergency horn in the cockpit and making sure the radio stays on.  Jeff only uses the horn to signal to the bridge master, and only does a call to Prescott Coastguard Radio for a radio check.  Things will go differently on the rest of the journey, but for this day, we follow Jeff's routine.

    I sound the 3 long, 1 short blasts of the airhorn to signal the bridge master that we intend to make the 9 am bridge lift.  After no movement occurs, Jeff calls him on his cell phone, and we see the guy amble over from his shelter to the bridge controls.  The bridge lifts and Mike punches the motor, beginning our week-long trek.  Marie waves from shore, then it's just the three of us, motoring into the wind.

    Kingston to Trenton via sailboat is a rather long stint.  Like 12 hours long.  Into the wind (what little exists).  We do manage to put the sail up twice during this stretch, for a total of about 1/2 hour.  But at least this gives us our first look at how these sails work.

    A previous owner of Freedom Four-Two had rigged that boat to make it easy for solo sailing.  Freedom does not yet have this luxury, although I'm sure it's on Mike's list of things to change.  To put up the mainsail, you need one person at the mast (Mike) to haul on the halyard, and one person at the wheel (me) to make sure you don't smash into anything (the wheel and rudder tend to shift more, especially with the inboard motor still cranking the propeller to give us any momentum and keep us facing into the wind for raising the sail).  The jib, you can work completely from the wheel single-handed if you want, so I guess it is possible to sail Freedom solo, so long as you don't want the mainsail up without any fuss.

    Anyway, once we got the sails up, the bit of wind finally in our favour disappeared completely.  As we did have a timetable to try to keep to (remember that 12-hour thing?), we didn't wait for it to start blowing again; just started up the motor and hauled in the sails.

    Travelling mostly by motor, you'd think maybe we'd have smooth going--no wind to play with the sails and heel the boat over at any crazy angles or anything.  Turns out, boats move a lot more side to side when only a motor pushes them along.  After a bit, my stomach complained, but so long as I steered, I could handle it.

    And then we hit the Bay of Quinte, and encountered whitecaps.  With the wind directly in front of us.  We closed up the dodger to keep most of the spray from swamping us, yet even so, I got wet.  Jeff and Mike went below so that Jeff could show Mike various interesting and useful tidbits about the functioning of Freedom, leaving me on deck to follow the chart-finder.  After a bit, they re-emerged and Jeff took over steering so he could have a smoke break, and Mike figured out the working of the alcohol stove (par my verbal instructions), leaving me with nothing to do except enjoy the wind-tossed waves.  I did not have much in the way of food that evening as we worked toward Trenton, completely freaking out Jeff (or perhaps it was more the pale green shade of my face?).  Mike knows my tells, and just let me carry on.  Smart man.

    Luckily, I had booked most of our stops a couple of weeks in advance, because we gave a confirmation call in to Trenton just before 7 pm (or 19:00 in sailor [and military] speak) to inform them of our late arrival time, and, as they closed at 7, they just gave us our dock number information and left us to it.  When we approached, Jeff and I got the bumpers out and reattached (NOT a fun thing when your stomach heaves as much as the boat), then we tried to follow the info in our 'Dock Guide' book, only to discover that the marina I had thought I'd booked online (Fraser Park) no longer actually existed.  In it's place stood the new marina (Trenton Marina), which we eventually figured out was the one with our reservation.  Being close to 21:00, we could not call them, but we found the indicated slip, saw the key card they had left for us, and surmised we had come to the right place after all.  Yay!

    Marie was stuck in traffic, but arrived about 1/2 hour after we did.  I checked out the nice facilities (having a working head on board is great, but sometimes you just want a real flush toilet that doesn't move) and we bit the former owners farewell (they only had to return for one forgotten thing about 20 minutes later, but basically, this was the end of the line for Jeff).

    It wasn't until I brushed my teeth for bed that I threw up.

    At least I felt better after that.  And we had our second night on our boat, trying out different berths to find the best sleeping arrangements for us.
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    Freedom

    Back in October of 2016, we sold our Grampian 26 sailboat, Freedom Four-Two.  The timing worked out well, as we didn't have to worry about storing her for the winter.  We did de-mast her, but then the new owner had the joy of figuring out how to protect and store her for the cold and snowy months.

    And then, around March of 2017, Mike started thinking maybe we should look for a new boat, a get-away place for the summer.  He began looking at Kijiji and yachtworld.com (even eBay once, just for kicks).  We explored various options, but one make and model kept catching our eye: the Hunter 33.  One really nice one (even had green trim--my favourite colour) sat waiting in Nova Scotia, but obviously that held the least practicality for a couple living in Ontario.  We briefly entertained the idea of getting it anyway and sailing it back to Hamilton, but a couple of things prevented that.  First, we weren't keen on buying it sight unseen, even if we arranged a survey and everything.  Second, it was on the wrong side of the island, so we'd have to sail it through the ocean around NS, then along the St. Laurence, which might prove an entertaining, but very long trip (closer to a month than a week), and Mike could only take so much time off work.

    So we nixed that boat.  Went and saw a couple closer to us--one in MacDonald Marine, where we kept FF-T, and one in St. Catharines--and also looked at a few different models, but none felt quite right (although the one in St. Catharines came close, even though the owner kept babbling on, making it difficult to really get a feel for the boat).

    Finally, one out in Kingston kept coming up.  So on the Friday of the long weekend in May, we took a road trip.  We had planned to visit Mike's family north of Peterborough for the May 2-4, and figured Kingston wasn't too far out of the way (OK, it's not exactly on the way, but if we're going to drive for a few hours anyway ...).  We saw the boat, we liked the boat, we ended up buying the boat (conditional on a survey).  Survey did find dampness on most of the deck, which is not ideal, but knocked the price down (Mike figures maybe we still paid too much, but as it will help keep his sanity, I don't begrudge the extra cost).

    Now, the owners clearly loved this boat, and so we wrote into the deal that they could have a couple of extra months to sail it if they paid to get it in the water, meaning we wouldn't get the boat (conveniently already named Freedom) until July.  With Mike's work schedule, this didn't seem a problem.  Funny thing, the owners never did get out sailing, what with rain and repairs and maintenance (excuses, excuses), but we wouldn't have taken her out much in May or June either, so no great loss for us.

    July arrives, Mike and I take a train from Aldershot (just outside Hamilton) to Kingston (via Toronto's Union Station--which is not pretty, at least the dingy underground portion we see), meet up with Marie and Jeff, the now-previous owners, and get to our boat.  We spend the next week sailing (or motoring, as the first three days have either no wind, or wind coming exactly from the direction we need to go) from Kingston to Hamilton, on the sunniest, most beautiful week of the summer so far.  Go us!
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    Our new, late-70s Hunter 33 sailboat: 'Freedom', complete with dinghy

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    Been awhile ...

    ​​So, obviously I haven't written to my blog recently.  Spent my time doing, rather than reporting, which totally works for me.  
    A brief recap of the last couple of years, then.
    ​TRAVELLING:
    October 2015, I took my best friend on a trip to Las Vegas to celebrate our 40th year on the planet.  We had a blast hiking the area (I highly recommend the Valley of Fire) and exploring the town and just generally hanging out.  Enjoyed a medieval feast and tournament one evening, and then a Chippendale's performance the next night, just because we could.

    In December 2015, Mike and I spent 12 days in Dominica, with a brief stop-over in Barbados (did a catamaran snorkeling cruise where we got to swim with the turtles, and visited a limestone cave).  An incredibly beautiful volcanic island (still active in terms of steam and boiling lakes), Dominica has super friendly people.  Lots of hiking (Boiling Lake, Waitukabuli Trail) and snorkeling.  And our hosts at the Crescent Moon Cabins in the interior knew how to put on a yummy spread.

    ​In early June of 2016, we went to Chicago for a long weekend to watch the trials for the America's Cup.  Lots of excitement (including very tall boats tipping over - twice) and fantastic sites.  Also, a really fun off-Broadway play called 'Old Hobbits Die Hard.'  Picture Bilbo Baggins a la John McClane returning to the shire to discover that Peter Jackson has tried to take it over.  Awesome combination of the LOTR franchise and Bruce Willis' Die Hard.  
    My best line of the trip came when the customs guys at Waterloo airport asked the purpose of our trip and I replied with great enthusiasm: "We went to see the big boats!"  Left him momentarily speechless.

    At the end of June, 2016, we went canoe camping in Algonquin Park, with the intention of staying in a cabin.  The first day had ridiculous winds, forcing us to pull into a campsite and sleep under the stars (didn't think we needed a tent, what with the cabin rental).  We left at dawn and made it to Tattler cabin by 7:30 the next morning, where a million mosquitoes greeted us (this is not a huge exaggeration - many, many biters).  Had a relaxing week without seeing another person until we made it back to the first portage on July 1.  Saw the mouse in the cabin, the snake (also in the cabin), beavers, deer, Canada Geese, loons, blue herons, and ducks, but no humans.  Ah, bliss.

    Las Vegas

    Barbados & Dominica

    Chicago

    Tattler Cabin in Algonquin Park - Canoe Adventures

     [Not so much travelling, but in October 2016, we sold our Grampian 26 sailboat: Freedom Four-Two.  Saved us having to store it for the winter.  Not to worry; we bought a new boat in July, 2017.  More on that at a later date.]
    And then, in November of 2016, we went further afield.  Two weeks in New Zealand's North Island, and one week in Cook Islands.  Good friends of ours (we call them Mom & Dad 3) had started their trip in Tahiti and Australia, and we joined them as they hit NZ.  We rented an RV and toured around from the Bay of Islands to Napier, with several stops along the way.  A fantastic country with incredible scenery, windy roads (both twisty and blowy, depending on the day), and friendly Kiwis.  And we only saw a portion of it.  Definitely on our list of places to return to, check out the South Island, as well as revisit parts of the North (like Russell).  

    New Zealand - North Island

    ​Mike & I went parasailing, snorkeling, and tromping.   We hiked the 19 km Tongariro Alpine Crossing (featuring Mt. Ngauruhoe, aka Mt. Doom), and we all enjoyed a traditional hangi feast with the Maori, learning a wee bit about their culture.
    On Rarotonga in the Cook Islands, we snorkeled and swam, hiked, and mostly cooked our own food.  Mike rented a scooter and saw pretty much the whole island (it's all of 32 km around).  A truly enjoyable 3 weeks.

    More New Zealand and Rarotonga

    In February/March of 2017, we went to Belize.  We left for Pearson on Mike's birthday, and caught a direct flight the next day.  I only mention that because all the Americans we met found it incredible that we could get a direct flight, as all of them had at least one layover, even the ones from Texas.  We became known as the couple who flew direct.
    We spent three days on the coast, and the rest in the jungle, having rented an SUV to get around.  Some of the roads seemed decent, others ... perhaps a bit bumpy and twisty (by a bit, read nauseating).  Especially the road (all of 7 miles) to El Pilar, which has only a little excavation, but gives an awesome (in the real sense) idea of the effort involved in restoration.  We saw many resorts and cabins, never staying more than 2 nights in one place.  Partly so that we could experience more areas, and partly because that's just how the reservations worked out.
    We stayed at a cabana on the beach for a couple of nights, taking a cruise on the Monkey River one day.  Saw howler monkeys, many species of birds, iguanas, spiders, bats, and crocodiles (our guide could point out a creature from far away, while us yokels on the boat - 3 couples - could only find it when he motored us to within inches of the cirtter).  In the interior, we saw 3 Mayan sites (Cahal Pech, Xunantunich, and El Pilar), and a cave (more howler monkeys, and a truly huge insect that luckily only Mike saw and photographed).  Of the three, Xunantunich holds the most popularity, but we rather liked Cahal Pech more.  El Pilar was interesting in that you see the huge effort involved, but the road in even has warnings in the tour books.  We arrived around 12:30, and the ranger there said we were the first folks of the day, though he wondered why.  Mike & I bit our tongues rather than point to the huge boulders and potholes we had somehow managed to drive around/through.
    Supermarkets in Belize are a bit strange, as it's difficult to find fresh produce, but with a bit of hunting and luck, you can sometimes find a place along the side of the road to provide fresh fruit.

    Belize

    Two other events, completely apart from travelling, occurred at the beginning of 2017.  OPUS II, the sheet music store where I worked for the last 10 years, closed its doors forever at the end of February.  I had no problems with this, as it allowed me to concentrate on writing again.  This has worked so well, that I finished the first draft of In Dreams We Live at the end of May 2017.  Just waiting for Mike to give it a read through after some editing, and then, I will have it published.  Yay!

    OK, so now we're all caught up on the last couple of years, at least up to July.  When boating begins ...
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    There was a time ...

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    When we started this whole sailing thing, little waves and slight heeling overs rather freaked me out.  I felt like the boat would tip at a greater than 45 degree angle, when it had barely gone past 10 or 15 degrees.  At these times, I would clutch the life-line and hang on for dear life, sometimes going so far as to hide my head in my arms.  Ah, the days of gentle winds.

    I have since gotten much better at avoiding panic (remember rule #2: don't panic), and the phrase "I don't like this ..." doesn't crop up as much.  Having said that, this past weekend had a little wind, and we went sailing.  Our marina sits in a sheltered area, so when you can feel any wind while at dock, you know it's going to blow somewhat stronger once you reach the bay.  On this day, you could definitely feel the wind.  After all, it blew at somewhere between 15 and 20 knots (about 20-28 kph), which means white caps in the bay.
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    Mike had gone out the previous day, with similar wind conditions, so he had a blast battling the waves again.  Me, on the other hand, I didn't know if it seemed like such a good idea to sail around with waves smashing against the hull and causing troughs to plow through, but I was game to try.  Our dock neighbour Paul did, after all, point out that attacking storm-like conditions on your own terms would prepare you for any eventuality of ending up in a real storm by accident.  So, best to try your hand at sailing in big (-ish) winds when it didn't really matter and you could always just go home.  I did, however, for the first few minutes, utter the phrase "I don't like this," whereupon Mike just grinned at me and forged ahead.
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    Usually when I steer the boat, I do so standing up.  Not sure why, it just feels right.  However, with the first blast of wind that pretty much took me off my feet, I promptly decided that sitting down to steer would work far better on this day.  One hand for the tiller, one hand firmly clutching the life-line.  And occasionally, both feet propped against the side of the bench so I didn't go flying across the cockpit.

    Our boat reaches optimum speed around 6 knots - that is, on a typical day, full sails and good weather conditions, once you reach 6 knots, you pretty much stay there.  On especially windy or some stormy days, you can push the boat faster, but the sails don't appreciate it.  Mike managed to get Freedom Four-Two up to 7 knots one evening when he and a couple of friends sailed to Fifty Point a couple of months ago with the wind at their backs the entire way.  On this day, with one reef in and the jib about 1/3 furled, we reached a little over 6 knots a few times as we bombed across the bay.  And that was into the wind.
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    ​I can usually get a feel for what I call the "sweet spot," where I've got the boat lined up in the perfect position for the wind to take us places as efficiently as an element with a mind of its own can.  Not so much on this day, as the waves mess up that sweet spot.  Riding up and down the waves, or smashing through them, depending on when the bow reaches the wave trough, tends to pull you away from an ideal course, pulling at the rudder just when you need it to turn or maintain a heading.  I passed off the steering to Mike near the beginning of our sail as I couldn't get myself quite coordinated.  He very sneakily managed to pass it back to me a little while later, and it took me a bit to realise that he had relinquished control, and I did just fine anyway, once I got a handle on things.
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    The waves built up enough that we had considerable spray on our journey.  The bow got quite wet ("There's a lot of water up here," Mike said at one point as he went up on deck to check on things - luckily it all drains away off the side), and once or twice, we managed a gentle soaker on ourselves, which quickly dried in the wind.  We keep some of the lines to the mast secured with bungee cords when at dock to keep them from rattling around and making too much noise at night, and we usually don't need to remove them when sailing.  This day, we lost one as the wind and constant motion tore it away, and we just managed to save another as it clung soggily to the deck.  The anchor also somehow jumped out of its holder and banged against the side of the boat for a bit before we figured out what made that nasty sound (apparently, it had tried a similar escape on Mike the previous day too), so we might have to figure out an even more secure holder for it.  Considering I usually have a bit of a struggle removing the anchor from its holder on calm days, I'm just as glad not to have gone anywhere near the bow with turbulence enough to jolt anchors around.

    Anyway, by the end of this exciting bit of windy sailing, I had gone from "I don't like this ..." to grinning happily as I steered us along a breezy course.  Not saying I want to go trying any sailing in truly stormy weather, but I'm more confident I can steer us through a fresh to moderate breeze, if needs must.  Happy sailing!
  • Published on

    Freedom Four-Two to the rescue!

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    We had a lovely outing on the boat with a couple of friends of mine from band, Matt and Ashley, and our biggest adventure came on our return to Hamilton/Burlington Bay (the name differs depending on whether you're reading the navigation charts or google maps) from the beach at Lake Ontario.
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    Burlington Bridge, just past the Burlington Skyway, Ashley's favourite bridge ever.  She's seen the bridge from both sides now ...
    We had just gone under the Burlington Bridge, sails up and motor chugging along to get us through before the bridge lowered again.  On the Bay side, we finally cut the motor once clear of the channel and hoped that the very slight breeze we finally found might get us somewhere eventually.  We watched a motor boat whiz by not too far off on the way to Lake Ontario with a doughnut-tube bouncing along on a rope behind it.  Empty (the doughnut, not the boat), with a dark blob in the boat's wake.
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    "Did they just lose a passenger?" we wondered, as the motor boat continued on its speedy way, oblivious to anything untoward that may or may not have just happened.  So we decided to check it out, see if that blob needed rescuing.

    We put the motor back in the water (sails still up full, as the wind didn't really seem to want to play with them anyway) and turned ourselves around.  It's a dark blob we're heading toward, no flailing arms or legs, but definitely not a buoy either, as they don't come in black (at least not in our bay).  Mike has retrieved the binoculars for a closer look, and after a moment hands them to Matt.

    "Is that a balloon?" they ask, whereupon we decide to continue our rescue attempts anyway.  After all, this is an ideal opportunity to practice the Crew Overboard maneuver with multiple characters in our little drama (or comedy).  And the closer we get, the more obvious it becomes that our rescuee is indeed a balloon, and likely had absolutely nothing to do with that passing motor boat.  Which would explain why they didn't even slow down.
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    Heading for the balloon, it's the crew of FFT to the rescue!

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    So I steer us toward the balloon, Matt's on look-out duty to make sure I don't run over said balloon, Ashley gets the grabbing hook, and Mike's ready to help haul our castaway on board.  Our first attempt ... a failure.  But we are not easily dismayed.  Subsequent attempts allow Ashley to poke the balloon, and even pull it alongside a bit, but our momentum makes it slip through Mike's reaching hand. 
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    Turns out, trying to reign in a cordless balloon with a mostly straight retrieving pole from a slowly motoring sailboat with sails up while the wind finally decides to blow just a bit isn't as easy as you'd think.  So after our fifth or sixth hilarious attempt to rescue the balloon, we declared it a lost cause and left the thing to its own devices, continuing on our way.  At least this diversion gave the wind a chance to pick up some speed after all, so we could actually make some decent progress.
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    Additional humorous moments and comments along the way:

    As we head toward the bridge and Lake Ontario, Mike decides to put up the extra boom to provide more support (and airflow) to the jib.  I haven't seen this done before, though I had heard the tale of when Mike and two of his friends figured out the trick.  So there's Mike, trying to get the end attached to the jib, while keeping the other end on the mast.  It slips and heads for the drink, though Mike retrieves the boom before it falls completely in the water.  Me, on the way to see just how this whole 2-boom system works, pause long enough to say, "Oh, that can't be safe," to the great amusement of Ashley and Matt.

    Later, as we heel over just a tad vigorously, we hear a gentle thump from inside the cabin.  Mike looks in and sees a couple of oranges have rolled off the table onto the floor.  In a moment of Zen-like serenity, he calmly states, "That's just where they go sometimes," which totally tickles Ashley's fancy.
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    Matt loved the sailing.  He got to drop and weigh the anchor, clamber all over the deck, haul on the lines, keep a lookout for bobbing balloons, and had a couple of shots at steering ...

    When Matt gets the chance to helm the tiller, he takes to it with great enthusiasm.  He's eyeing up landmarks, checking out the wind gauge and getting a general feel for the boat.  And he's learning how quickly the wind can change, and the extent of sensitivity of a rudder under sail.  During one such unexpected course change, there's Matt with a fantastic litany of "Crap!  Crap, crap, crap!"  No worries; we've all been there.  He got us back on track easily enough after that.
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    We saw a little sailboat on our way home, tiny thing, probably made by hand in the guy's garage.  Really a neat looking craft, with great potential for fun.  Mike says they had one about that size at their cottage growing up, and his mom called it the bathtub.  Just big enough for the guy steering it.


    There was some mention of Matt in drag at one point, of neither Matt nor Ashley having any shame, something about having seen all the parts before.  Ashley biting her tongue to keep from swearing like a sailor, but really, if you can't do that on a boat where most of that language came from, where can you?  And swimming in a freezing lake where each successive person to jump in claims in a less-than-sincere tone that "The water's fine," "That's bracing," "It's a little brisk," and an overall sentiment that it was just frigging cold.  Followed by a second dunking after a snack, where Ashley calls out that "the current's changed."  Meaning that it had somehow gotten colder as the day progressed, despite the 30 degrees C of the day, and the humid-ex that raised that to something closer to 40.



    All in all, a really fun day.