Boat Owners Again

 

Patrick, Kenzie, Finn & Fjord in front of our 1980 Ericson 30

These are but a few glimpses into the wonderful (and expensive) world of sailing in which we find ourselves.  

Story time:

Back in December I was doing my hourly scan of  Craigslist to see if I could find anything.  Lo and behold I see and ad for a 30' Ericson sloop for cheap...like MY price range cheap.  I put it in my mind, and contacted the owners right away.  After I dropped Kenzie and the boys off in Utah, I figured I would make the most of my airport run and check out the boat while I was down in town [Honolulu].  I saw the boat, it looked to be sold, but the previous owners lived aboard for nearly 4 years and it was covered in junk.  The interior looked scary, there were empty prescription bottles everywhere, so many cigarete butts, and a few bongs lying around.  Anyway, fast forward a few months.  I kept tabs on the boat, waiting for when they would actually pull the trigger to sell it.  Finally in May they were ready.  I went down to scrape the bottom clean.  As I worked on the boat, and they moved their stuff off, the guy started freaking out because I was getting too close to the through hulls and he was worried I'd cause a leak.  That troubled me.  I spent a couple hours chipping barnacles off of the bottom of the boat.  It looked like an alien landscape!  There were so many tube worms, crabs, and soft corals that I was pretty sure I saw some new species I had never witnessed in the coral reefs around the island.  After cleaning it, we went back down the next day to hopefully sail it away to a new dock.  In the end, we did all the paperwork and stayed at the Ke'ehi Small Boat Harbor temporarily for about 3 weeks.  It was right under the airport takeoff zone, so it got kinda loud. 

On our first sail out, we brought along some friends and decided to just sail the whole way.  I swam a line out to a pillar in the bay, pulled the boat back and let us drift so we were pointing into the wind, then popped up the jib (which ended up being a tiny sail, almost a storm jib) and shoved off.  We started sailing in the gusty weather...the wrong way.  We headed back to a dock, almost bumped into another boat.  Finally got her flipped around, and went sailing.  It was all pretty uneventful, till we started coming back in.  Other guys came out on their sailboat to rescue us.  They respected me for trying to do it all with sail, but thought it was foolhardy with the kids aboard, and the reef being so close.  The channel to get in and out of the harbor is about 500' wide, and very long.  It takes a good half hour just to get OUT of the harbor.  As the guys pulled close in their 27' albin vega sloop, a pod of dolphins came to play.  They put on quite the show!  They would dive under the boats, hop in the air, twirl, and converge as the rode down the face of a wave.

Riley, a skipper who lives on a Dreadnought 32 when he's not playing "deadliest catch" up in Alaska hopped across from one boat to ours.  He took over.  Normally my pride would have been injured, but it was the first time on a new boat in a new harbor in a new ocean.  I was a little reluctant to hand over the helm, but at the same time willing to learn.  We put up the mainsail to balance out the rig and allow us to tack.  We were able to head back in all the way up the long channel and tie up at an end dock safely.  Riley went through at least 4 beers completing this maneuver.  We then "hip-tied" an inflatable dinghy to the side, and motored to a dock.  Hopefully we get better at this docking and undocking thing.

Vacation Time

My boat is back in the water and ready for action.  I have gone from having a mooring in Milwaukee to a mooring in Oconto.  It is a little over an hour north of me, but it's still close enough that I can get out for a good sail if I have the day off.
I was planning on selling the boat because...well, that's what I do.  Posting it online was all too easy.  Adding pictures to the ebay listing, or the ad on craigslist made me nitpick and see all of the imperfections that I realized would make her difficult to sell.  One day I decided to head up and make sure nothing had been damaged over the winter months.  I hadn't been on my boat since October, and here I was well into June before making my first visit.  As soon as I saw my Glander Cay, I began to have reservations about selling her.  Instantly upon stepping aboard I realized that I didn't want anyone else to have her.  I had gotten such a good deal on a boat that not many would appreciate, and up to that point in the year, all I could think of was dollar signs.  Once I saw the potential again first hand, I pretty much decided that I'd hang onto her until I was offered six times what I paid for her, or until she was not longer fit to sail.  A good solid hull that is as well traveled as this one is not usually cheap.  Anyway.
The mooring was fairly inexpensive, and it meant that I could get out on the Bay much quicker because I wouldn't have to motor down the river all the way from Hi-Seas Marina.  It also meant that I had to find a way to get out to my boat without a dock.  Previously it had been warm, and I was accustomed to placing my clothes in a drybag, and swimming out to my boat.  The first time I had done this was the night I tied her to the new mooring.  I had motored the mile or so from the marina to the mooring, tied off, and tidied up a bit.  To get to shore I swam, fought through the reeds and lily pads, then changed back into my clothes in a nearby restroom.  The bright green drybag I had picked up with my Cabela's gift card did wonderfully.  My clothes were still bone dry.  I began my hike back in the rain down the dark county road.  I made it most of the way there before getting picked up by a kind man in a Ford Ranger.  The interior of his truck suggested that he was a chain smoker.  He explained to me that he was just doing his second good deed for the day.
Fast forward to now.  I found out that I get a week's paid vacation because I have been at my current job for over a year.  Time off being like money in my pocket burning to be used up, I took the first available week in September to do a cruise.  I wanted to take advantage of what little "warm" weather we have left.  Wisconsin has been insufferably cold and wet this summer, and I had a feeling that sailing in October again would not be nearly as pleasant as last year.
The plan is to leave on Monday, sail up through the Green Bay, and stop at islands along the way.  Chamber's island is about 6 hours away from Oconto.  Washington Island is another 6 north of that.  After sleeping on one of these little beauties, I will get to go up and explore Rock Island, St. Martins Island, Plum Island, Poverty Island, and many others.  The area is known as Death's Door, or Porte Des Morts by the French.  After studying the cruising charts I can begin to see why there are over 250 shipwrecks in such a small area.  The Niagara Escarpment (the rock the giant falls are carved out of) extends past the tip of the peninsula and occasionally juts up into an island.  There are multitudes of rocky shoals near the islands.  The depth quickly goes from 100' to 3' in some areas.  I'm sure I'll be glad to have such a shallow draft boat designed for island hopping.

Conquering

As soon as I got done with my blog post yesterday I thought about how nervous I had been about sailing since I have so many mishaps.  I realized that I was letting my fear of failure keep me in the harbor on a day that could turn out to be a beautiful day.  I didn't want to let my anxiety keep me from doing something I love.  I didn't want to crash into the pier again, but I wasn't gonna sit on land if I could possibly be out on the water.
After I left the library I drove straight to the marina, threw off the mooring lines, flipped my boat around, raised the main, and headed out.  No collisions, no close calls.  I didn't even really have to tack to get out of the harbor.  Getting out is the hard part, and once that was out of the way it was easy.  I called Dani so she could come sailing after all; but since I told her the weather was going to be too bad, she had already made other plans.  I sailed off alone.
The wind was pretty strong, coming out of the south, and it took me a couple minutes to set the jib, but once both sails were up I was cruising along at a pretty good pace just enjoying life.  My brother, Spencer, called to see if he and his friend, Seth, could come sailing too. I could see a few people starting to get out their paddle boards and surf boards.  There were pretty good waves for once, usually the lake doesn't kick up cresting waves close to shore.  I dropped anchor just outside of the heavy impact zone for the waves and began to get the dinghy ready.  Aequitas was still jumping up and down quite a bit on the waves so getting into the little 8 foot boat was somewhat challenging.  I surfed on a couple waves as I got closer to shore, but just as I was about to get out and walk the rest of the way a huge wave broke over the stern and filled the dinghy halfway with water and sand.
Getting in was the easy part.  I almost got swamped with just me in the boat.  Now we were cramming two more people in and trying to fight against the waves.  It was a pretty hairy situation, but very fun.  We had to lean one way to avoid the waves, and then counter balance to keep water from lapping up over the gunwales.  I had to push the boat past the breakers before I could climb up and start rowing.  In the end we had a glorious sail and I'm really glad I went.
A life lived in fear is a life half lived.

Photoless

I've had a few pretty good days when I've been able to get out and enjoy all of the goodies the Sheboygan has to offer in the summer time.  A friend of mine who I haven't seen in 3 years came back to Wisconsin with her husband for a couple weeks.  It was really good to see her and catch up on all that has changed over the years.  It's so weird to look back at who you were, and see who you've become.
Tuesday I tried going sailing with my brothers and sister.  It was a really gusty west wind.  Getting out of the slip was a test in timing.  Then when we got out the wind was directly behind us and the helm wouldn't answer.  There was too much pressure on one side of the boat.  I had to keep running forward to fend off other boats.  In the end we almost got blown up against the rocks.  Max and I cut our feet jumping off and pushing the boat away.  I think Max has had that experience each time he's been sailing with me.  I would much rather ram my $5000 boat into the rocks than have it even brush up against the $300,000 racing yacht at the end of my dock.  We finally got back to my slip with a little help from a local boater who took a line from us and walked us over.  It was another frustrating day, but we quickly decided to grab the snorkeling gear and dive off the pier.  I practiced holding my breath while walking on the bottom with weight belts.  I think 20 pounds was a bit intense to use for a long time in 12 foot deep water.  My lungs got a good workout though.
The next day I coordinated with a few people to go cliff diving at the local quarry in the morning.  I woke up at 4:45 and we drove over before dawn to dive 20 feet into the lukewarm lake below.  It's a nice rush to wake you up, but because the air was so much colder than the water, we didn't really get out much, we just treaded water for an hour.  At first I wasn't sure if it was legal or not there (that's why we go so early in the morning), but then when we got there we found a sign that asked people not to dump garbage and tables into the quarry.  It said nothing about diving, and there was a knotted rope tied to a tree, making it easier to get back up.... clearly an invitation to dive. 
So after diving and stopping at Big Apple Bagels for breakfast we relaxed in the hot tub for about an hour.  I almost fell asleep cause it was so warm.  The wind was still pretty fresh.  My friend and her husband had never been sailing before, and my other friend who came along had only gone sailing briefly on the 4th of July.  We tried heading out under just main but ran into the same problem of having too much weather helm.  It dawned on me to try heading out under just jib seeing as the wind was coming from behind.  It worked beautifully, and I was able to navigate out of the harbor with no issues. 
One thing we realized after we got out was that the wind was so strong that it would have been stupid to put the main up.  It was the only time I've ever sailed any boat by jib.  I couldn't point as high into the wind, and often I would have to do a huge gybe cause I couldn't get her to go up into the wind and tack.  The waves built up to 4 feet and we had some fun crashing over those.  All of the stuff on my shelves fell down in the cabin.  I think it's funny how much housekeeping I have to do every time I go sailing.  Just think about purposefully putting your house in an earthquake for fun and expecting all the dishes to stay in place.
It was a challenge to tack back into the harbor after a couple hours of sailing, but I think everyone enjoyed the experience.  I learned a lot about sailing in high winds and with less than favorable sail trim.  (I really wish I had self tailing winches, but they are super expensive).
After sailing I worked from 2:00 to 8:00 and then headed back to hang out.  We played a game called fugitive.  Basically it's like tag, hide n' seek, and cross country practice all in one.  You get a group of people starting at one location and they try to get to another area (about 2 miles away) in a specified amount of time while 2 spotters chase everyone down in a car.  If you get spotted by the car then you have to get in the car and try to catch the other runners.  It's good fun, but kind of a work out.  Then we had a bon-fire of an old couch and some Christmas lights.  The copper in the wiring made an electric blue/green flame.  Very cool to see.
On another day they came down at 5:30 so we could go kayaking before work.  It's a good way to start the day.  The lake was peaceful as I glided across the water in a "borrowed" kayak from the Sea Scouts.  (I put it back).  We went over by the beach to practice Eskimo rolls.  I decided to stay above water this time, but someday soon I really want to perfect the art of flipping the kayak right side up without falling out.  We surfed the kayaks on a few small waves for around an hour before putting them away.  I love summer by the beach here in Sheboygan.  I love living on a boat because it's all so much more accessible to me.  Whenever I want to go for an early morning run, or swim, or whatever I can.  The only regret I have is that I have no photographic proof of any of this happening.

Put to the test

All was set for our epic voyage across the 64 mile expanse of water known as Lake Michigan.  After 12 hours of work I quickly darted over to Wal-Mart and spent a surprising amount of money on some last minute safety items and food.  I picked up some water and Mountain Dew (to keep myself awake), a few sandwiches, a flare gun, some heavy rope to use as jack lines, and some flashlights.  Adam and Gavin were waiting for me down at the marina with their duffel bags packed with the gear they anticipated using.  After transferring the stuff to my boat and putting my laundry baskets in the back of my Mom's van we were set to depart.  There was still no sign of Spencer.  I was really hoping he would be on time so we could get out of the harbor as soon as possible.  I couldn't imagine why he would be late since he only lives 2 blocks away from the water.  I called him as we walked down the dock.  "Where are you?" I asked, "Marshfield. Why?" was the reply.  Now my Wisconsin geography is not that good, but I could tell that he wasn't going to be there in the next 15 minutes.  "Don't worry, I'll be there by morning." he said.  Apparently he was not on the same wavelength that all the rest of us were.  At first I got mad cause he flaked out, but then I figured it was just his loss.  I didn't realize at the time how much it would have helped to have another helmsman aboard. 
I wrapped the sparkling grape juice bottle in a plastic bag to catch the debris and smacked it hard against the bow to finally christen Aequitas.  Yeah the bag split and shattered glass went all over.  Oops!
We untied the mooring lines, secured the dinghy to a short painter attached to the stern and headed out silently.  It took quite a few tacks to get out, but I had expected light winds for the first few hours of the trip anyway.  I fired up the GPS which proved indispensable in the pitch black night.  It was a very young moon, and a very cloudy night.  We had a hard time finding the angle of the wind because it was too dark to see my telltales.  I tried to steer by the GPS, but light winds make that difficult.  We slowly made our way East away from civilization.  I could still see the lights from Sheboygan hours after leaving, it was a bit frustrating.  Eventually we left it all behind and the only glow came from the solar powered stern light I had taped to the rail.  Adam and Gavin had no problem heading below and sleeping.  I downed a couple sodas and sat at my station steering from 9:30 till about 3:00 am.  Gavin took over while I tried to catch some sleep in the port quarter berth.  I found it difficult to sleep with all the caffeine in my system, and the rocking of the boat.  Everything sounds much more ominous when you're down below.  The mast reverberating through the hull, the sails slapping as as we pounded over waves.  Just the sound of water passing by the keel made it sound as though water was trickling into the engine compartment.  I got up to check it once with a flashlight only to find it bone dry.  I finally settled down resting my head against the rubber fenders we had stowed below.  I was just drifting off to sleep when we gybed accidentally.  I heard the commotion and tried to sit bolt upright in my bunk only to be reminded painfully of the metal radio bracket hanging down at exactly eye-brow height.  I was glad it wasn't my eye, but it hurt.....a lot.

We got back on course and I tried to sleep a bit more.  I think I dozed for half an hour, but didn't actually feel rested.  I took over at the helm again for quite some time.  According to the GPS we were only averaging 2.9 MPH.  The sky gradually got lighter and lighter.  Adam got up around 4:45 to keep me company.  It was nice to finally be able to see the boat around me, and to have a small point of reference.  There was a small patch in the cloudy sky that was lighter than the rest, so I took it to mean I was at least heading towards the sun.  I had a couple pop-tarts but they didn't agree with my stomache.  I didn't get sea sick at all the whole trip, but it made sleep nearly impossible.  I think it was just the fact that I had stayed up too late.  By now I had been awake for nearly 22 hours.  I went to the forward cabin to see if it was any easier to sleep there.  I noticed that the forward berth was subject to more of the boat's pitching as we crested over waves.  Not too comfy.  Adam took a turn steering along a GPS course through some of the stronger winds as I drifted in and out of consciousness.  I suppose I really should have kept better track of when our watches were.  I was up again by 7:00 to steer again.  We were nearing the center line of the lake.  It felt as though we were crawling west and we would never reach even the halfway point, let alone Michigan itself.  The wind kept dying as well, so we were not making the progress I had hoped.  I was still counting on the 19 MPH winds the forecast had promised me.
It was an interesting feeling to be completely out of sight of land.  We felt completely alone knowing that there was no one around for miles, and no solid point of reference.  I think this was when Gavin's seasickness really started to kick in. 

As we inched closer and closer to the halfway point, and I got more and more exhausted I came to realize we weren't going to make it.  I guess when you're cruising you really shouldn't have a tight schedule.  The reason I was so miserable was because I had pushed my body to stay awake and concentrate longer than I should have just so we could make it there and back in time for work.  The GPS would keep calculating how long it would take based on current speed and heading.  Even 30 miles out it was still allotting us 16-18 hours to reach Pentwater.  I informed my crew that we'd make it at least over the middle line then turn back.  There was no point in seeing how far we could go just to be stubborn.  Thus far I was proud of my little boat, but annoyed at the fickle and weak wind. 
We drifted here and there, tacked to try and find better wind, and eventually passed the center line without even knowing it.  A little over 32 miles out we turned and headed for home with what little wind there was coming across out port quarter.  Adam and Gavin donned wetsuits and life jackets and got dragged back to the Wisconsin side of the lake.  The 900 foot deep water was insanely clear and dark blue.  We dropped a few cans of soda into a bag and lowered it into the freezing depths to act as a refrigerator.  It wasn't until we let out about 30 feet of line that we finally lost sight of it. 

We played around, but my mood steadily deteriorated as I got more and more tired.  I was not having fun on my maiden voyage.  I'm supposed to be the one that loves sailing no matter what no matter when.  There are some things I've learned I don't actually like.  I hate being over tired, I hate not having wind, and I hate the little black horse flies that seemed to have an insatiable appetite for human ankles. 

At 28 miles out the wind and waves kicked up and blew us quickly along.  The speedometer quickly registered that we were regularly going 6.8-7.3 MPH which is pretty dang fast for my boat.  At one point I wasn't sure how much stress my jury rigged back stay could take so I called everyone up from their slumber to help reef in the main.  It was an exercise in futility.  We tried to head into the wind but kept falling off.  I guess I wasn't a pro at heaving to quite yet.

We went back to what we were doing before.  Adam: sleeping below.  Gavin: sleeping in the cockpit trying not to vomit, and me: gripping the tiller tight and keeping a wary eye on my fresh rigging and 40 year old boat.  The GPS recalculated that the return journey would only take 6 or 7 hours vs. the 13 it took us to get out. I was glad that we'd get in before sundown, and maybe still do something fun with the rest of the day.  We blasted along towards Sheboygan until about 10 miles out we got hit by random squalls of rain, and variable winds.  The waves remained, but the wind couldn't make up its mind.  I had never seen the wind go from so fast to completely dead before. 

After a bit of waiting and spinning in circles I was able to conjure up enough speed to get us to the harbor, then 2.75 miles out the wind was gone.  Completely gone and not showing any signs of returning.  The waves were still strong and snapped the sails back and forth so violently that I was sure any breath of air there may have been was instantly spilled out.  I think this is when it all became too much for Gavin and he lost his meager lunch over the side.  I got so frustrated at the lack of wind.  I was really kicking myself for not having the engine.  It wouldn't be bad, but we were so close, the weather was just mocking me now.  Thick fog rolled in and a thunderstorm passed over head.  I draped a shroud over the side so that if we did get struck by lightning hopefully we wouldn't all explode in a fireball.  In the end I got so fed up I hopped in the dinghy and began rowing the boat.  I could have radioed the Coast Guard, but then I thought about how much they might charge for their services and decided to just row and row and row.  My arms are a bit chafed from the repetitions sweeping across my life jacket (our mom's would be so happy, we wore them whenever we were out of the cabin).  According to the GPS I was moving us at 1.1 MPH for about a half mile.  A small breeze kicked up and I returned to Aequitas to try and sail in.  A few fishing boats motored past us, though we could hear them more than we could see them.
The sun set behind the fog bank as we gradually made our way in.  At one point I was relying wholly on the GPS just so we wouldn't hit the lighthouse cause I couldn't see through soup like air.  As luck would have it, as soon as we rounded the breakwater the wind picked up again and drove us straight for my dock.  In fact it was almost too strong and it took a lot of effort to slow us down as we put into the slip. 
As soon as we tied off the exhaustion made it hard to fight off apathy.  We got the sails folded properly, and most everything tidied up.  I said goodbye to Adam and Gavin and headed straight for the hot tub.  I was met there by my perpetually drunk German neighbor.  As I tried to relax he kept going on and on about how stupid my boating is.  He said he respected me for trying so hard, but I do it all in a very pigheaded way.  I go out when there's no wind and get bitten by black flies (how he knew about that I'll never know), saying that it's all well and good that I can sail engine less, but that I'm creating more of a headache for myself and a hazard for others boats than I should.  I could see his point and was definitely getting discouraged quickly.  I love sailing, but I had sold myself so much on this idea of long distance cruising being the life for me, but after just 75 miles I was beat.  I think a lot of the distress can be chalked up to the timetable I was under.  Next cruise I'm going to take a week off of work and just get there when I get there. 
On a side note, my phone had started roaming about 12 miles out and so the battery drained within a few hours.  I put on dry clothes and staggered like a zombie the 2 or so miles over to my mom's house to get my phone charger and check my facebook.  I have never been so exhausted in my life, and hope I never am again.  I don't even want to think about how many hours I was actually awake for this whole venture, but next time I'll have people to take over.

Maiden Voyage

OK so this plan has been in the works for a couple of weeks now, and will come to life this evening.  After work tonight I'm going to be meeting up with my brother, Spencer, and my friends, Adam and Gavin.  We're planning to head out at 9:00 PM and sailing over to Michigan.  The closest city I could find was Pentwater, MI which my friend, Bailey, has told me is very nice.  The wind is supposed to be super light tonight, but building into the teens tomorrow.  I'm looking forward to that so I can build enough speed to get home in time for work.  I figure it'll take around 16 hours to get across, then we can sleep or explore for a bit and then turn around and head home.  Both ways we're going to be doing some night sailing.  I'm looking forward to getting out away from all the light pollution, and doing more than a day of straight sailing.  And seeing the sunrise on my boat with nothing on the horizon.  Hopefully we have enough wind to get out of the harbor. 
On another note my $200 compass arrived without any way of calibrating it, so it is constantly 30 degrees off.  I don't see any point in using it if it's going to get me lost.  I guess I'll be relying on the GPS for the 63 mile voyage.  I'm sure there will be 3 nervous mothers tonight, but I'm optimistic that it'll all be ok.  I also got 3 of the 4 swageless terminals for my riggin, so now my turnbuckles are finally rigged right.  As this is my first time using these terminals.  I hope I did it right and that it won't matter if I was a millimeter too long or too short on the shrouds.

I must say it felt a bit odd to take the bolt cutters to my brand new rigging, but it looks a lot better now and should be stronger than the swaged eyes I did have put on there.  I just wish all 4 had shown up at the same time so I could be done with it.  Stupid shipping companies.
Wish me luck!

Perfect

Last night after work I went over to check if anything had come in the mail for me.  Recently I have gotten a spare anchor, a compass, a GPS (Garmin eTrex Venture HC), and now a hammock and a good book called My Old Man and The Sea.  I look forward to stringing up the hammock and just reading if I'm ever anchored off-shore with nothing better to do.  I headed to the boat and called/texted a few friends to see if anyone wanted to go out sailing.  It was beautiful weather.  The breeze was about 10 knots, and it wasn't going to get dark till around 9:00.  I waited to hear back but then decided just to go out on my own.  I prepared this time by getting my boat hook up on deck so I could push off if need be.  Luckily the wind was working for me and I shoved off without the slightest problem.  Getting out of the harbor was a bit tricky though.  I had to tack back and forth quite a bit with just the main, and the direction of the wind made it feel like I was just drifting sideways.  I slowly made my way towards the mouth of the harbor.  I thought of tying off to a nearby dock just to put the jib up and make another go at it.  But one more tack and I got out.  There was a strange current that started to push the bow of my boat towards the breakwater, but in the end it went smoothly.  I headed out on a close reach under main alone and fired up the GPS.  It quickly registered that I was doing 2.5 MPH.  With the wind speed it didn't feel like I was even going that fast. 
I was keenly aware that I was alone out there as I began to set the jib.  A few waves rolled underneath me and made for a bit of a challenge to maintain my footing whilst clipping everything on.  After I popped the jib up I was soon doing 4.5 MPH.  The best I did was 7 MPH which I though was higher than my theoretical hull speed, so maybe I was doing my calculations wrong.  It should be the Square root of the waterline length time 1.32.  Or maybe I had to multiply the waterline length by 1.32 and then do the square root.  Not sure, either way I was glad to have the GPS along. 
The heat wave that has blasted the Midwest over the last few days led to a thick haze over the water.  About a mile out I lost all sight of land.  It was nice to be away from everyone and everything, but often I would hear the drone of a fishing boat's engine.  It was eerie to hear the noise but not see the vessel.  I only hoped that no one would plow into me going 20 or 30 knots.  I took up the habit of whistling really loudly every minute or two as a sound signal to other boats.
I struggled to keep in the wind, and for some reason I didn't feel like I was trimmed just right.  I lashed the tiller in a position that would at least keep us on the same compass course.  The boat would very slowly come a degree or two up into the wind, then it would fall off.  The pressure of the sails kept it rounding one way, and the tiller countered it.  I found that my little boat could almost sail herself better than I could.  We maintained a straight course for about half an hour with no input from me.  This allowed me to go below and fetch some Twizzlers, crank up some Linkin Park on the stereo, and wander around on deck.  I was wearing my life jacket right from the beginning on this trip.  Although it was nice to not have to steer, I knew that if I fell off and missed the dinghy trailing behind I would be left miles out in the lake and Aequitas could end up in Michigan all be herself.  I tried lying down in a quarter-berth just to see what it felt like while underway; I could have drifted off to sleep so easily.  It was quite a comfortable motion, not slapping and pounding over the waves.  The solitude was liberating.
I made it about 3 miles out before turning around and heading back towards the setting sun.  It was so foggy that I could only see the water in a radius around my boat, but there was nothing solid I could use to get my bearings.  If it wasn't for the GPS I would have been lost out there with nothing to guide me back in other than the angle of the wind and waves.  I averaged 3.5 MPH on the way out, and 5 MPH on the way back on a broad reach.  The temperature dropped as the sun sank behind the fog bank and was completely obscured from view.  It was very dark by the time I caught my first sight of land.  There is a bright LED clock on top of a bank on 8th street which showed up long before the lighthouse did.  A rather large group of lights apeared off my starboard quarter and followed me slowly in.  It looked and sounded like a barge but later turned out to be a large fishing boat.  Again I whistled at 1 minute intervals to make my location known. 

I had to steer by GPS for a bit to avoid the pier, and after I was past that point the fog lifted and I sailed straight back to my slip.  The wind maintained direction allowing me to go downwind to the dock.  I pulled in just perfectly, stepped onto the dock and tied off.  I had already come to a smooth stop and I didn't need to rush around for anything.  A nice man stood on the dock to assist, but soon realized there was nothing to do. 
After putting the dinghy to bed and taking the jib down I accepted help flaking it on the dock.  Folding bigger sails by yourself is no easy task.  We stood there chatting for a bit.  It is by now common knowledge that I have no engine in my boat.  "So do you have an engine in there?"   "Nope."  "Man you know how to sail if you can get in and out of this harbor without one!"  We talked for a bit about how kids aren't learning to truly sail anymore, everyone has gotten so used to being able to flip on an engine and head home.  He spoke about how sturdy my boat looked, and how impressed he was with how far it's come....And he hasn't even seen the "before" pictures.  I was quite proud of myself.  It was just the confidence boost I needed.  Now I know that I can in fact solo-sail some, and I look forward to the first week in August when we sail to Michigan.

No wind = frustration

Yesterday it was light air again for the second Tuesday in a row. Getting out of the harbor was pretty hairy.  In fact this whole ordeal with low wind speeds has taken quite the toll on my confidence as an engine less sailor.  I pushed the boat out and by the time I hopped on she had flipped backwards and was trying to drift in between two docked boats.  I got her turned sideways, but then she kept drifting.  A guy came over to help push off.  No damage done I don't think, but I'd be mad if someone had bumped into my boat.  I'm starting to think that if there isn't a lot of wind, or at least a discernible direction of wind that I just won't go out.  After I got out of the harbor I was moving along at a slow walking pace.  It was a fun day still.  I had my brother, Liam, out on the boat.  We went snorkeling, and practiced diving through the transparent water down to the anchor.  I can hold my breath for about 2 minutes in a hot tub, but only about 20 seconds in the lake.  I don't know what they temperature difference does to me, but it's annoying. 
We entertained two families from church and had a grand ole' time just ghosting about.  I'm planning on heading across Lake Michigan in two weeks with whatever crew I can scare up.  I should be getting my new compass, GPS, anchor, sail cover, and hammock this week.  If only I could get my electrical system working, or a wind vane autopilot.  It would be nice to have one, but they're super expensive.  If you want to get me one for Christmas I won't complain!

What I've done

I had the chance to chat with some really cool people at work yesterday.  There was a group of four who were biking from California to Maine.  It was so fun to speak with others who have similar dreams to go out and face the odds and travel long distances on their own. One of the girls even had her own blog which was really well done.  It really inspired me to keep on working towards my goals.  I'd love to do a biking trip, but the boat trip is at the forefront of my mind right now.  I've had my doubts over the months, but when I think about how far I've come I can't help but keep going.
I guess this is as good a time as any to sum up what I've done in the process here.  So following will be a list of chores I've done and rough costs put into this venture.

• Find and purchase my Bristol 24                          $1,800 plus tax.
• Transport it to Sheboygan
• Paint transom                                                      $20
• Remove rotten floor in the cabin               
• Purchase random saws, drills, and other tools      $150
• Clean out ice box
• Clean out marine head (toilet)
• Replace floor with makeshift bunk boards
• "Install" carpeting                                                $10
• Sand all of the woodwork to bare wood             $16
• Varnish all the wood with 3 coats (sanding between coats) $25
• Paint cockpit
• Re-Seat stanchion bases                                    $15
• Buy anchor and chain                                         $55
• Paint bottom with anti-fouling paint                     $150
• Buy sails                                                            $1,200
• Pay for slip at the marina                                    $1,200
• Install propeller shaft seal
• Launch boat                                                      $262
• Raise mast with improper rigging
• Buy new turnbuckle                                          $80
• Get new shrouds made                                      $475
• Raise mast again with new shrouds
• Buy stay adjusters cause shrouds are too long   $107
• Jury rig the mast                                               $15
• Put name on the stern                                       $77
• Buy dinghy, oars, and dolly                               $310
• VHF radio                                                       $90
• GPS                                                                $95
• New compass                                                 $215
• Portable running lights                                      $20
• Repaint waterline
• New dorade vents                                           $90
• Stove and propane                                          $30
• Fenders                                                           $90
• New halyards, sheets, and blocks                     $260

So all in all I've spent around $7,000 on my little home that I plan to travel in.  I guess it really is true what they say: "A boat is a hole in the water you pour money into."

A few things of note

It's been a pretty fun week.  There have been triumphs and frustrations; realizations and determinations.  I guess I should backtrack a bit to explain things that are going on in order.  Summer is a pretty good time to have adventures, I just wish I had more time to be out there having them.  I had my friends, Charlotte and Kim, come down to go sailing with me on Saturday the 9th.  As we were walking down the dock to the boat I noticed a new couple struggling with a fishing net in the dinghy by their boat.  they seemed to be trying to scoop something off the bottom.  I had passed by them once, but when I realized that they were still at it half an hour later I knew they needed help.  I offered my assistance.  They had accidentally dropped a sliding cleat over the side of their boat. It was an essential piece of their boat and it was in a size that they don't make anymore.  They had mentioned calling the police to send a diver down, but either they didn't do it, or they realized it was a futile attempt.  I told them I had snorkeling gear and I'd be glad to dive for their lost cleat.  It was a bit awkward changing into a wetsuit on my boat while my friends were just on the other side of the thin cabin door, and I'm sure I looked a bit strange wearing a shorty wetsuit and dive goggles.

 I strapped a 20 pound weight around my foot and hopped in the water.  It took a little bit to get used to the chill, but after a minute I didn't notice the cold.  I took a deep breath and slipped below the surface of the murky harbor.  It was completely brown with all the silt that had been stirred up by their fishing net.  I couldn't see my hand in front of my face, but I was still glad to have the mask on.  I was probably about 9 feet deep when my feet sunk into the soft mud.  I immediately began digging around, sweeping the floor with my hands.  I didn't want to push my breath holding capacity, so I kicked back up to the surface.  It was surprisingly easy to get the weight back up with me.  I was directed as to exactly where the cleat fell overboard.  I was sure it would have shifted with all the commotion that had been made.

 I dove again and again about 4 times.  Once I found a little stick that was about the right size and shape, but it wasn't what I was going for.  I decided I was going to flatten myself on the bottom and sweep the whole area and stay down as long as I possibly could.  I took an extra deep breath and plunged down again.  Wouldn't you know it, my foot landed right on it.  It was a couple inches underneath the silt.  They were overjoyed when I returned their missing merchandise.  I didn't let them pay me, but it did get me thinking about how much I like diving for things.  I feel like I should find a shipwreck around here pretty soon just for fun.

After that adventure we did get out sailing and had a glorious time.  We heeled over pretty nicely and just chatted as we cruised about aimlessly.

On Tuesday the wind was nice and fresh in the morning, but by the time Spencer and his lady friend got there the wind had died.  We waited for half an hour before I got bored and decided to go out in whatever breeze there was.  We ghosted out of the harbor under main and jib, and then the wind picked up and we were able to actually move around the lake pretty well.  It was warm and clear with no waves and no clouds.  I tied a string to the tiller so the boat could steer itself for a little bit and then jumped into the dinghy to take pictures.  I love the way Aequitas looks when she's under sail.  I can't wait to get away from land. 

Spencer climbed the mast once because he had to free a halyard, and once just because he wanted to.  No matter how short the mast may seem from the deck, it feels so much taller when you're up on the spreaders.  He took some pictures and some video, but seemed happy to be back down.  You have to consider that any tipping or heeling motion that you would feel on deck is multiplied by how far up the mast you are.  If the boat is heeled over 15 degrees that doesn't feel like much from the boat, but up on the mast you'd be out over the water, not the boat.

As we sailed over the Niagara Escarpment (a giant chunk of the same rock that the Niagara Falls are carved from) we could see clearly through the surface and some times I was sure we would hit a submerged rock.  Amber, (Spencer's friend) was just laying on the foredeck soaking up the rays when all of a sudden her phone committed suicide.  For no reason at all it hopped, skipped, and plopped over the side of the boat without so much as a goodbye.  It was so odd, but oddly funny at the same time. 
We headed in to shore and dropped anchor.  I had friends from church out on the boat after that, but sadly the wind died again... ALL THE WAY!  I couldn't conjure up enough speed to even steer the boat.  It was a disappointing introduction to sailing for a few people.  We had fun swimming though.  Once while I was changing into a swimsuit I heard a grinding noise.  We had run aground again on a sand bar.  I hopped of and tried doing what I had always done, but she just got more and more stuck.  I tried having everyone sit on one side of the boat, and the little sister of the group hang off the boom to tilt it enough, but to no avail.  In the end I had to push the boat closer to shore into a channel between the sandbars, and then find a gap to get out.  After hours of no wind they decided to all head home in the dinghy.  It was quite a sight to see the little boat so loaded down, but it's a sturdy craft equal to the task. 

My brother, Max and his two friends came out after that.  I was able to get us moving slowly towards the lighthouse until the shift in air temperature from day to evening created a little breeze.  I got us all the way around into the harbor, but then when I tried tacking up against the non-existent wind we almost drifted up against the rocks.  Twice.  I jumped in to save my hull once, and max went in the second time while I tried to row the boat out of harms way with the dinghy and about 200 feet of line.  Luckily a man in a rigid-inflatable motorboat came and towed me to my slip.  It was embarrassing being so stranded just days after I had boasted in my engine less skills.  I still don't want to rely solely on the engine, but I should probably put it in.  It has kind of shattered a lot of my enthusiasm, but I can't let one bad learning day get me down.  I guess I need to get back up on the proverbial horse.

Second attempt

I was beginning to wonder if the Marina was ever going to get around to making my new rigging for the mast, it had been a couple of weeks.  I got a call on Tuesday from Gary in Manitowoc saying that he had gotten the parts in and that they should be done by the end of the night.  I didn't expect him to call me so soon afterwards to inform me that they were all done.  I was already on my way. 
I called in my siblings to help put the mast up.  I got the mast flipped over (smashed the steaming light in the process), re-attached the shrouds, and taped up the turnbuckles.  Every time I got out on deck to try and do some work the weather turned against me.  It has been raining a lot for summer over the last few weeks.  I get really frustrated when I'm so close to getting something I've been working, waiting, and paying for and other things crop up that are out of my control.  As I got more and more frustrated I got pretty snippy with my family.  I don't know why, but I expect everyone to be able to read my mind and just get the heck out of the way when I'm in a bad mood.  I hope they forgive me for being mean, I just wanted to get it done.
Needless to say that with the torrential downpour and the wind I did not get my mast up.  I'm still unsure as to whether the fore stay and back stay are going to be the right length.  The weather looks like it'll be good for tonight after work.  Luckily it's been staying light until around 9:00, but it has been around 55 degrees and rainy for far too long.  The cabin on my boat is constantly damp and my towel never dries out.  My dinghy is almost completely full of rainwater.  I haven't had time to bail her out yet.  The weather is reminding me a lot of Wales and England.  It rained a lot there, but then again everything was always so lush and green.  I miss it over there, but I want Sheboygan to finally get into summer mode.

Homeless

Yesterday was my birthday!  It was pretty uneventful to begin with.  I worked all day (literally).  The only thing to break up the monotony was going out to Culver's with a friend for lunch.  If you've never been to Culver's I highly recommend it.  A better brand of beef truly does make a butter-burger better.  I worked from 8:30 in the morning until 9:30 at night.  We close at 8:00, but I had some last minute customers that bought a car.  Oh well, money is good right?  After I updated my Facebook account and replied to most of the birthday wishes I started to head home.  On the way I suddenly grew hungry.  The problem with Sheboygan is that there's nowhere to go at 11:00 at night for food except Perkins.  I didn't want to go to the restaurant alone and feel lame so I decided to just turn in for the night.  As I was almost to the marina I got a text from my friend Jessica, she was with another friend.....at Perkins.  So in the end I did get some more birthday fun, and I got to eat inordinate amounts of food.  That's a good day in my book.
As I got home to Aequitas I noticed that there was no longer any water dripping into the bilge; small victories.  Thursday I will be moving the rest of my belongings out of my apartment so I can fully move onto the boat.  I wonder if I'll get in trouble for being technically homeless.  Does living on a boat count as homelessness?  What if I have my Mom's house as my mailing address.  Soon the only bills I will have are my cell phone and the insurance for the car I sold to my sister and brother in-law.  Hopefully this means that I will be able to save quickly for my trip to California this summer, and to Europe next summer.
Just as a backup plan I began searching for flight prices to head to all the places I want to visit next summer.  Oddly enough if I did it as a multi-stop flight and spent about a week in each country it would only be just over $1,000 for the whole trip.  That's stopping in Ireland, England, Spain, and Florida.  For that price I may as well do that this year.  Obviously that doesn't cover food and lodging.  The main thing I want to experience though is cruising on my own boat and pulling into a strange port and seeing everything from that perspective.  Then I can explore every cove and inlet along the way, stop at any beach that intrigues me, and carry my living place with me like a snail's shell. 

Crunch time

I just got off the phone with the hauling company that's going to be launching my boat.  Apparently it's going to be $250 which is a bit lame since they're only moving it a couple of blocks and I got the same price quote to move the boat about 20 miles before.  Oh well, not much I can do about it.  Also they only have two dates that they're going to be in town rigged to move sail boats: May 9th or June 6th.  My goal was to have her in the water by my birthday, so I don't really want to wait two weeks after that, but the 9th is only two weeks away.  I feel like I could do it if the weather lets up and I take off of work for a week.  I don't want to delay and wait too long, but I don't want to rush into it either. 
I was just down there the other day putting on the first coat of varnish on some of the woodwork.  I need to coat the rest of it, and do another 2-3 coats (with sanding in between coats and 6 hours of dry time).  Right now there's no more dripping or leaking, it's just the soggy decks because while she's on the hard the water pools up.  When she's floating it should drain off in the slots that are cut for that.  All I need to do is patch the drain holes with some epoxy and then paint the undersides with anti-fouling paint.  I'd like to wax the hull and finish varnishing the bright work as well.  If I had 3-4 days of solid work and nice weather on it I'd be good to go. 
I did find a place that has OEM sails in stock for my rig.  They run about $500 a piece.  Less than the $900 per new custom sail, but more than the mismatched ill fitting used sails.  I'll probably go that route since it looks to be a pretty prosperous month for the car business.
So do I ask off of work for a week, or do I wait till June?

Progress shots





These are the "custom" sawhorses I built to keep the mast off the ground.  It's the little things like this that make me feel better about my boat. 

You can see the frog tape and paint slopped all over the waterline here.  Also my sloppy first attempt at putting the stickers on the side.

This is the better side where the stickers are actually lined up.  (My brother's OCD is gonna go overtime on the other stickers).  And this is after I repainted the waterline.

The view from the cabnin after all the woodwork has been sanded, and the sides have a fresh coat of paint.  Much better than it looked before.  (Still need to do the floor though).

These are the 8 or 9 holes that I drilled in the port side of the keel to let the moisture drain out.  Hopefully nothing too bad going on in there.  From what I've read in the forums, it's nothing to worry about if there are no cracks, and it's prertty common.

And this is all the gear I bought to get her back into Bristol Condition.

Springtime at last

My day off at work was switched from Thursday to Friday to coincide with the last day of the month.  It was busy at work, but as the weather gets progressively warmer my thoughts turn more and more to sailing.  The forecast called for a snowy rainy mix which luckily didn't come.  I was able to spend most of the day working on my boat getting her ready for her first season of sailing in a long time.  There was a small amount of water that had trickled down into the bilge (the lowest part of the boat) and had frozen over winter.  I had thought that after the 40+ degree weather that it would all melt and I'd be able to scoop it out.  It took days before I could break up the chunks of ice and throw them overboard since the 3,000 pound solid lead ballast in the keel didn't want to warm up as fast as the rest of the boat.
Rather than worrying about buying or renting a generator I decided to just get some useful cordless tools.  I bought a drill and a circular saw.  I used the saw to cut a few boards up for a makeshift floor, and used the drill in conjunction with a wire paint stripper to do most of the other work.  It was amazing how quickly and easily I was able to get the random spills from the previous owner cleaned up when I had electricity on my side.  I had been trying to scrape this stuff out of the cockpit by hand, but it would have taken days; I accomplished the same task in about an hour.  It's so gratifying to see things start to come together.  After a long cold winter of worrying if she'll be ready in time, of being restless, of magnifying problems in my mind, I was finally getting stuff done.  I scrubbed and taped and began to paint.  I organized and analyzed. Now I know the ins and outs of the boat just a little bit better.  The part that I thought had been leaking I sealed up so that no moisture could make it through.  On Sunday when I swung by to check it out in the rain I found out what the real problem had been all along.  The cockpit is like a big bath tub with two drains close to the forward edge.  These drains go through two hoses and out the bottom of the boat.  One of these hoses was not only clogged at them bottom, but it wasn't properly aligned where the drain meets the hose, so any rain water was just filling up inside the hose and draining out inside the boat.  I tightened down the hose clamps inside the boat, and then went to see about clearing the clog out.  It was pretty easy actually; I found a long bolt, and poked it up in the drain once and a hole bunch of water splashed out on my arm.  Now when it stops raining I can go back and paint the engine bay, finish painting the cockpit, and begin varnishing the woodwork.  Varnishing will probably take a long time, but I'm hopeful that it'll look all pretty when I'm done.
The official sailing season starts here on the 15th of April.  My goal is to have her in the water by my birthday on the 24th of May.  These dates are getting closer and closer.  I do feel confident that I'll have everything done on schedule, and then I can move in and enjoy the summer aboard.  She may not be the newest, prettiest, or most high-tech boat out there, but at least I will have the satisfaction of knowing that I brought her back to life and helped her be out where she belongs: on the water.
     -I'll put pictures up next time-   Feel free to leave comments or ask questions.  Otherwise you can find me on Facebook.