Here we go again back on Avante after a fantastic winter's sojourn in Telluride! The cold temperatures and the abundant snow created superb conditions. The steeper chutes filled with snow, and all our Black and Double Black runs offered up some very adventurous skiing . Day after day –- it was wonderful, and, to my surprise, I skied more this year than the nine previous years put together. Feeling toned and ready, on Monday, May 19th, we left our San Juan Mountains and headed northwest to the San Juan Islands. Mountains to Sea – A perfect contrast!Our plan for Avante this season is also adventurous. This will be our last season in the Pacific Northwest, for in September we will sail Avante south to San Diego and then to Mexico in 2009. After a farewell tour of our favorite spots in the San Juan and Gulf Islands, we will head to Desolation Sound hoping for the same fantastic weather we enjoyed last June. From there we venture north to the Broughton Archipelago, a scattered group of islands we had earmarked as an area to return to for further exploration. Sailing back across Queen Charlotte Strait, we will re-provision in Port Hardy before, weather permitting, we start a circumnavigation of Vancouver Island. The First Mate, our Intrepid Mariner, is a bit uneasy about this venture. The west side of Vancouver Island is notoriously stormy, exposed to the sea as it is. Old Timers up here cock their eyebrows at us upon hearing of these plans. It is early in the season for such a trip. The seas may not have “laid down”. There’s that term again. Oh well, if I am really going to sail around this great, big world on this itty-bitty boat, I had better start somewhere. The Squawk Meter, however, is in the stand-by mode.
After sailing down the western coast of Vancouver Island, we will round the southern end of the island and head into beautiful Victoria Harbour where we have scheduled two days of R&R before returning to our marina in Canoe Cove. We then drive back to Telluride for a short 6-week mountain summer with visits from family and friends anticipated and as much golf and hiking thrown in as possible. Just before Labor Day, we will return to Avante and sail her south to San Diego.
A note: There will be terms and incidences frequently referred to that are not going to make any sense to a reader who has not read the tale of last summer's Alaskan trip. Since I can't really explain or re-explain everything, you might want to do some speed reading. To do so, you click on the Blog Archive, and then click the earliest date reading your way up to the present. Without a quick perusal, you may miss all the implications and subtle nuances of such words as “laid down”, Squawk Meter and Intrepid Mariner. Frankly, you will not know what I’m talking about and in the hope that no one think me nonsensical, please peruse “Avante to Alaska”. Enough said.
A note: There will be terms and incidences frequently referred to that are not going to make any sense to a reader who has not read the tale of last summer's Alaskan trip. Since I can't really explain or re-explain everything, you might want to do some speed reading. To do so, you click on the Blog Archive, and then click the earliest date reading your way up to the present. Without a quick perusal, you may miss all the implications and subtle nuances of such words as “laid down”, Squawk Meter and Intrepid Mariner. Frankly, you will not know what I’m talking about and in the hope that no one think me nonsensical, please peruse “Avante to Alaska”. Enough said.
Returning to one’s boat after it has been stored for a season is always a lot of fun, as in fun = work. First, there’s getting Avante back in t
he water. Looking up at her, “beached” as she is, is always a shock. She looks so very much bigger out of the water. Bill has no problem climbing up the spindly ladder to her deck. Secure, he contentedly works away up there. Not so me. With great care, I climb up just to stop his sarcastic nagging. I do a walk-about of the deck just to show him I can do it, but then I’m down from there back on Terra Firma. If Mother Nature had wanted me up there, she would have given me wings.
he water. Looking up at her, “beached” as she is, is always a shock. She looks so very much bigger out of the water. Bill has no problem climbing up the spindly ladder to her deck. Secure, he contentedly works away up there. Not so me. With great care, I climb up just to stop his sarcastic nagging. I do a walk-about of the deck just to show him I can do it, but then I’m down from there back on Terra Firma. If Mother Nature had wanted me up there, she would have given me wings.
Obviously, I did venture up. Taken from a deck vantage point, here’s a picture of Bill climbing the spindly wooden ladder. “Deck Vantage Point”? From my perspective, that’s an oxymoron!
And, there I am. Not happy or comfortable or where I’m meant to be, but at least there. It even makes me a bit dizzy just to look at myself up there, and this is just a photo!
To move Avante thru the maze of boats in the yard, a machine similar to a remote-controlled Tinker Toy is used. The man at the lower left is holding the remote. With dexterous coordination and great patience, he maneuvers the individually controlled wheels and slowly edges the machine into position placing Avante squarely in the middle of the beams.
It takes two men to lift and connect the huge canvas-covered slings beneath her girth.
There she is – on the move. Notice how tight the alley is and how close the other boats are. They don’t let just anyone drive this thing! Not me, that’s for sure. The Dingbat (i.e.: Avante’s tender) still bears bottom scratches from the time I rammed her, me and my grade school buddy, Jane, head on into a pile of rocks when all I meant to do was slowly back up. Nope -- I don't think the Machine and I would get along at all!
The keel softly breaks the surface of the water as slowly Avante is lowered.
To move Avante thru the maze of boats in the yard, a machine similar to a remote-controlled Tinker Toy is used. The man at the lower left is holding the remote. With dexterous coordination and great patience, he maneuvers the individually controlled wheels and slowly edges the machine into position placing Avante squarely in the middle of the beams.
It takes two men to lift and connect the huge canvas-covered slings beneath her girth.
There she is – on the move. Notice how tight the alley is and how close the other boats are. They don’t let just anyone drive this thing! Not me, that’s for sure. The Dingbat (i.e.: Avante’s tender) still bears bottom scratches from the time I rammed her, me and my grade school buddy, Jane, head on into a pile of rocks when all I meant to do was slowly back up. Nope -- I don't think the Machine and I would get along at all!
The keel softly breaks the surface of the water as slowly Avante is lowered.
Ah-h-h-h----Back in her element. Feels so good!
Her 52’ of midnight blue hull now looks a more manageable size.
Her 52’ of midnight blue hull now looks a more manageable size.
We have 6 days to clean, organize and re-rig Avante. Bill starts topside with a good hosing and scrubbing to rid her of a winter’s accumulation of dirt and dust. All manor of stuff have to be re-attached, not the least of which are her brand-new sails. Main Sail, Jib and Spinnaker – she’s ready to take on the oceans!
The First Mate works below hardly seeing the light of day for the next three. Here she is manhandling the unwieldy mattress to make the bed. Fitted sheets are great, but only once they’re on the bed!
There’s the inevitable mold growth to attack in various dark cabinets. There’s organization and reorganization of what was originally thought to be organized. It’s an ever-evolving process. On my Excel Program, I now have files labeled: “Avante: Food Aboard”, “Avante: Meds Aboard”, “Avante: Stuff Aboard”, “Avante: Sue’s Stuff Aboard”, and "Avante: Sue’s Clothes Aboard”. Some of you are going to immediately think I’ve gone from ridiculous to absurd, but it all came about as I kept finding items I had forgotten I had brought on the boat and/or as I mentally kicked myself for carrying a duplicate (sadly, sometimes a triplicate) item on the boat and/or as I racked my brain over whether I had an item on the boat or not. Though it's not been that big an issue so far since we’ve been driving to and from the boat with the jeep serving as packhorse, starting next year, we will be flying, and we all know what the benighted airlines think of luggage these days!
On my handy Excel Spreadsheets, I use a code to identify where various stuff are located. The concept is sound, but not so good in practice as I have to constantly refer to the appendix down the left side of the spreadsheet to rediscover that the code “RPD” means the door on the right end above the bed on the port side of the owners’ cabin and that “RPS” means the right cubbyhole storage area behind the seatback on the port side of the
main salon. This whole identification process has me stumped. When it comes to stowing the stuff I'm responsible for on this boat, there seems to be very few easily described locations. “Right drawer of the buffet” doesn’t work here. Hidey holes for necessary storage are ingeniously clever on a sailboat. There really is a drawer located behind the back cushion on the right side of the port bench in the main salon. Then, just to complicate things a little more (though it does wondrously provide more storage), there’s additional open space under that same drawer when you pull it out of its slot. Clever, isn't it? Now, how does one describe these places? What elegant name does one give these devilish locations? I challenge anyone to come up with a simple identification system. Lacking such a system, my spreadsheets have evolved into something so complicated that only I can decipher them, but the good news is that I can find where every thing from a toothpick to the spare candle for the dining table has been stashed. Important stuff, you know! Really, seriously ... sometimes it is!
Six days later, we are done or as done as one ever gets on a sailboa
t. The bright new sails up up, crisp and ready to catch the wind that has been briskly blowing. This year, the process of returning Avante to the water moved forward a bit smoother and quicker. We are advancing on that learning curve. Tomorrow, we set sail and the adventures of 2008 begin.
On my handy Excel Spreadsheets, I use a code to identify where various stuff are located. The concept is sound, but not so good in practice as I have to constantly refer to the appendix down the left side of the spreadsheet to rediscover that the code “RPD” means the door on the right end above the bed on the port side of the owners’ cabin and that “RPS” means the right cubbyhole storage area behind the seatback on the port side of the
main salon. This whole identification process has me stumped. When it comes to stowing the stuff I'm responsible for on this boat, there seems to be very few easily described locations. “Right drawer of the buffet” doesn’t work here. Hidey holes for necessary storage are ingeniously clever on a sailboat. There really is a drawer located behind the back cushion on the right side of the port bench in the main salon. Then, just to complicate things a little more (though it does wondrously provide more storage), there’s additional open space under that same drawer when you pull it out of its slot. Clever, isn't it? Now, how does one describe these places? What elegant name does one give these devilish locations? I challenge anyone to come up with a simple identification system. Lacking such a system, my spreadsheets have evolved into something so complicated that only I can decipher them, but the good news is that I can find where every thing from a toothpick to the spare candle for the dining table has been stashed. Important stuff, you know! Really, seriously ... sometimes it is!Six days later, we are done or as done as one ever gets on a sailboa
t. The bright new sails up up, crisp and ready to catch the wind that has been briskly blowing. This year, the process of returning Avante to the water moved forward a bit smoother and quicker. We are advancing on that learning curve. Tomorrow, we set sail and the adventures of 2008 begin.
