Mike, Liam, and I had mediocre winds on our recent return to Seattle from the San Juan Islands, but my-oh-my did the wildlife make up for it. In a 24-hour period (starting 5:30 am on Sunday 6/26) we saw: bald eagles, great blue herons, kingfishers, southern resident killer whales, harbor porpoises, harbor seals, rhinoceros auklets, tufted puffins, pigeon guillemots, lunge-feeding and breaching minke whales (up to 5 at once), herring, swarms of sea gulls, a harbor seal <2 meters away (!), a northern red sea anemone, a sun star, river otters, a foraging humpback, and a leaping salmon!

Our lucky run of rare marine mammal sightings began when we met about 12 northbound southern resident orcas at Lime Kiln lighthouse and Deadman’s Bay. They were very close to shore (10-100m) traveling north in groups of 2-5 spread out over about a kilometer. The blows backlit by the early morning sun were mystical against the shattered basaltic coastline. We didn’t hear any vocalizations and there were no automated detections made that morning on the Lime Kiln (or Orcasound) hydrophones, but the sounds of the blows were clear and powerful and added majesty to a very peaceful passage down Haro Strait.

About the time Liam started asking “When are we going to get there?” we were treated to a rorqual reunion in the middle of the eastern Strait of Juan de Fuca. In a few square kilometers centered over Eastern Bank (between Hein Bank, Smith Island, and Partridge Bank), there were at least 5 and probably more than 12 minke whales foraging on aggregations of forage fish. The fish were 10-15 cm long silver-grey elongated fish — probably herring — that formed tight schools or balls. One ball was chased directly under our boat by a languishing (full?) harbor seal so we were able to see it was 1-3 meters deep and 1-5 meters across, densely packed with slowly swirling fish. Sea birds were flying everywhere (almost always <10 meters above sea level) and flocking at the waters surface in groups about 10 meters in diameter, typically spaced 500-1000 meters apart. Does anyone know if this is a particularly great year for herring? I'd never before seen such large aggregations during Beam Reach programs (in the fall or spring) or in a decade of recreational sailing around the San Juans and Puget Sound.

The minkes were remarkably adept at heading strait towards the next aggregation of birds, lunging through it for a few minutes, and then traveling in a pretty straight line towards the next aggregation. We wondered: how they knew which direction to swim next? They often seemed to be working together, lunging or breaching through schools in groups of 2-3 whales. Many lunges were horizontal with heads out of the water, while a few seemed more vertical and looked like a killer whale spy hop.

Almost as amazing as the feasting minkes was our nighttime observations of a foraging humpback just south of where Admiralty Inlet meets Hood Canal. This is the furthest into Puget Sound that I’ve seen a humpback. At least one individual was feasting on aggregations of a small silver fish (more herring, we assume) earlier that (yesterday) morning from about 2-4 a.m. when Mike, Liam, and I sailed very slowly through Skunk Bay (Foulweather Bluff to Hansville). It was overcast with occasional rain showers with 0-10 knots of N/NW wind while a weak flood transitioned towards a strong ebb at Point-No-Point. Liam counted 38 blows in an hour of listening to the near-constant sizzling (snap-crackle-pop) sound of leaping forage fish. We were able to see some of the closer surfacings in the pale light from Seattle reflecting off the low clouds and calm waters and it was clear this was an adult humpback taking 3-5 breaths before making a 3-6 minute dive.

Actually, the light-wind sailing with our big polytarp crab claw sail was pretty interesting, too. Mike served up Nutella French toast as we jibed and reached slowly down Haro, greatly appreciating the 2-3 knot push from the ebb tide. .Mike chose a good clear night for Liam’s first night sail and Liam surprised me by waking easily, watching and listening carefully for the humpback, and doing a good job relieving Mike at the helm for a stint.

The last couple weeks have focused on preparing Milagra for its first trip up the San Juans. The plan (starting tomorrow!) is to have Mike, Sam, and others transit to Lopez via Port Townsend, then have the Veirs clan cruise for 3-5 days followed by 7-10 days of cruising by Mike and family, and then return to Seattle (Mike, Scott, Liam, and ??)… You can track our progress here — http://econscience.org/tiki/sail/

This meant that we needed to finish up the new main sail, find and mount an engine, build a dodger, and create a head! Additionally we organized our cruising ear/tools/materials, and added a tracking device to our safety gear.

Two weeks ago, Mike and Catherine laid out the dodger and two Tuesdays Mike and Scott stayed up most of the night installing it. Last Friday, Mike and I got the boat in the water at the UW WAC, revved up the engine and made it to the locks in about 30 minutes (minor cavitation if too much weight forward or wake lifts the engine up), locked through smoothly, and took a guest berth at the Shilshole H dock. Mike and Catherine then spent the weekend at Blake Island, reporting an easy downwind passage (2 hours) there, and some good motor sailing back. This week we tuned the rig a bit during an evening sail on Monday, a working/sailing Tiki Tuesday with Julian and Matt Johnson (put tell tales all over main, finished 1/2 dodger struts), and a final session tonight — I installed the head while Liam and Cora assembled the new tool and repair boxes and Annie organized the first aid kit.

Here’s a link to a prioritized sailing checklist for coastal cruising on a Tiki 21.

And here’s links for helping plan and execute safe coastal cruising in the Salish Sea — with a focus on Puget Sound’s main basin and the San Juan Islands.

By the time I arrived, Mike had managed to get the basalt sock over the mast using a plastic cup as a smooth taper to the 15cm diameter mast base.  We saturated the sock with epoxy, then added a layer of epoxy mixed with fairing compound.  After about an hour of brainstorming dodger/deck-tent ideas, the epoxy had set up for an isopropyl alcohol massage.  It’s nice and smooth in most areas and will only need a light sand and additional fairing to completely cover the sock fibers.

8m Tiki dodger and tent (by Hanneke Boon)

Mike purchased 32′ of galvanized thick-walled electrical conduit for dodger/tent supports.  The question is to go with something designed by Wharram, riff of of some of the other dodger/tent designs in Boatsmith’s photostream, or to try an asymmetrical solution — possibly a sort of clam shell folding in from one or both sides…

We also delved a little deeper into comparing Torqeedo electric motors… Can you feel a summer of cruising coming on?

Jim Luby and Matt Johnson joined Mike, Christian, and I in pondering the Tiki 21 crab claw plans, lacing and lashing together the new main sail, and then rigging it in various configurations.  The curvature in the bamboo looks mighty fine and the basalt-reinforced upper spar seemed very strong but still light.

We discovered there are many ways to arrange the new sail — by raking the mast fore or aft, overlapping the spars and mast (or not), shifting where the halyard ties to the upper spar, and stepping the mast on the center or forward beam.  The favorite arrangement seemed to be a vertical mast stepped forward with the sail overlapping the mast a couple feet, but almost every set up warrants a trial.  We even tried using the small main as a apanker (assuming we added a little mizzen mast or other mounting hardware).  Another great idea was using the smaller (7 m^2) main as a downwind “spinnaker” that would let one run wing-and-wing with close to the full planned sail area (~20 m^2).

We resolved to experiment with lots of combinations, but to basalt the mast beforehand to reduce the risk of it buckling and creating bamboo splinter shrapnel.

The evening started with Thomas and I having a hoot bouncing Liam and Cora around on his big “bread loaf” — a paint ball barrier we may some day use to lift Tiki hulls with shop vac or exhaust pressure.  2/3 full the thing may be the ultimate backyard bouncy house, or fully inflated it may be one seriously fun log rolling device in Lake Washington this summer!

With the kids in bed, we quickly rigged up the sail and spars and got a sense for how much lateral stress might be put on the upper spar by the halyard.  The sail is definitely bigger than the old main and had a life of it’s own even in the light breeze.

Soon Mike showed up, we concurred that about 2 meters of basalt sock centered on the halyard attachment point would be a simple way to guarantee the upper spar wouldn’t fold.  Thomas helped cut the sock and slid it on with Mike as Scott hemmed and hawed about placement.  Centered on the point 3.10 meters from the upper spar’s tack-end, the sock got saturated with epoxy glue and then coated with fairing epoxy.  As it cured up later, Scott trimmed the ends with a box cutter.

Mike and Scott also used some tarred twine to whip some of the bigger splits in the bamboo spars after dribbling in some epoxy glue.  That worked well and looked pretty ethnic and bomber as well.  The hope is that with another coat of epoxy the rain won’t get inside the spars and cause internal rot or weakening.

It wasn’t quite as sunny as the day before, but today brought us a nice combination of dry decks and 5-7 m/s April winds.  We got to the trailer around 2, had it in the water around 3, sailed for about an hour, and had it out of the water around 5:30.  The sail was very pleasant with Union Bay in classic form — unpredictable gusts and lulls sweeping over the arboretum from the south.  We enjoyed a long beam reach over to the east end of the 520 bridge and back.  A highlight was being approached by a little red zodiac which at first glance looked like a Coast Guard boat.  It was a treat to realize it was actually Fritz and Erin coming over to check out what appeared to be a felucca making good speed in light winds with minimal sail area.  Thanks to Fritz for the great photo above!

Liam, Ryden, and Cora tested out the new benches, determining they make great tables and desks for kids.  Annie got cold hands, but seemed right at home on deck, reading over the wind to the kids nestled down in the hulls.  The sailing was very smooth and the only problems I noticed were another stress crack in the main hatch covers (this time inboard forward corner of the aft half of the port hatch) and rain water having leaked into the forward two (round) waterproof hatches (likely due to o-rings scratched too much by last summer’s sand).

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Overall, the trailer modifications worked well.  With only 10-15 cm clearance under the keels, I was surprised we didn’t touch going over bumps and undulations.  The final dip and rise at the top of the ramp, however, led to the skeg/rudders hitting.  Liam and I propped up the stern beam on the skids with 4×4 blocks and made it over.  Lowering with the climbing rope worked fine, but it was way too stretching on the way back up.  I think the winch is the way to go, though it’s slow; maybe bring a cordless drill?  Another a-ha was realizing the trailer tongue could be raised or lowered with the front wheel jack to keep the keel from hitting the ground.  The longer-term solution though is to raise the skids another 10 cm or so.

While it was good to get Milagra in the water and under sail again, it was also nice to spend enough time at the boat ramp working out the trailer/launching/recovery kinks that we bumped into the local WYC+ guard.  Gavin kept an eye on the end of the boat ramp and offered some suggestions, Chris (owner of the Supercat) chatted about trailer solutions that might work for hand-deploying off the ramp, and John discussed the rig and vessel, before volunteering ideas for improving the WAC winch and finally heading home around 5:30.  I ended the day sponging out the bilges (old rainwater, not new!) and the prolific fish cracker crumbs left behind by my crew.

Mike and Stefan consulted on rig stresses, with our primary concern being catastrophic bamboo failure under the loads of the new main.  We decided it would be prudent to put basalt sock on the mast and the central section of the upper yard.  Stefan also recommended load testing some bamboo to observe how it fails (can you say splinter shrapnel?)…

After sampling some coconut porter, we settled down cross-legged and sewed up a Polynesian polytarp sail of 13 m2.  Stefan and Mike dacron-taped the corners while I wrested with Pfaff tension (didn’t know about the bobin tension screw).  We took turns sewing the edges, putting in grommets, and emulating Mike’s artsy red corner stitching.

Before heading to bed, we pointed one of the 24′ bamboo poles (spars) into the night sky and wondered at the enormity of this sail we’re building.  It’s going to be a blast comparing this one to the little main that already sends Milagra scooting around at 3-4 m/s…

Last weekend we finished the trailer conversion, assembled the boat on the carpeted skids, and confirmed the beams would take the load of the hulls hanging from them by the lashings.  We ended up with the desired proximity of hull and ground (about 20 cm) that will enable us to move the boat from the storage area to the short boat ramp and deploy the boat at all Lake Washington levels without having to lift the hulls on/off of the trailer.

On Saturday the Veirs Reese clan drove down to the UW WAC with shiny beams, tillers, and platforms atop the VW.   I forgot the boat keys, so Liam was denied frisbee access and spent a long time ascending the climbing wall with Cora.  I started the trailer conversion (from <8′ wide trailerable hulls on V-cradles to boat-ramp ready) with the stepwise scheme for one person getting the hulls off the trailer:

1. Tie support cradles to snugly to hull;
2. Remove inner straps holding forward cradles to trailer and all straps on aft cradles;
3. Place a sturdy box (about 50-75 cm high) adjacent to an aft cradle;
4. Lift stern of that hull and rotate hull on forward cradle beam and strap until aft cradle can be lowered onto the box;
5. Remove forward cradle strap;
6. Lift bow, rotate hull on box until trailer wheel/fender is cleared, and then lower forward cradle to the ground;
7. Return to stern, lift and hold it while removing box (with foot or free hand), then lower to ground;
8. Move box to other side and repeat steps 3-7.

I then drilled holes for the T-legs in the ends of the trailer 9×9(cm)’s and through-bolted them, adding straps on the inboard sides of the T-legs.  With unexpected help from a nice boat-owner named Paul, we drilled holes in the tops of the T-legs and bolted the carpeted skids to them using the original hardware (shifted slightly at the aft end to meet the aft T-legs).  The beams looked happy sitting up on their soft perch and the rest of the bits got stored on the trailer’s new double 2x6x8′ treated lumber “gangway” or central shelf.  This shelf was intended for storing beams during transit, but had an unexpected benefit of creating an overhang at the aft end of the trailer which makes a handy step on which to stand during platform assembly.

On Sunday we returned in search of frisbees and climbing walls, with books, sleeping bags, and picnic cooler at the ready.  Proceeding at a leisurely pace (with some assistance lacing up the tramp from Cora), I assembled the Milagra in about 4 hours.  I started by adjusting and aligning the hulls, using 9x9s and 4x9s to raise up the V-cradles until the hulls touched the beams that were resting across the skids.  Lashings went on pretty quick, platform got fit (after some attempts at gluing a spongy split portion of the port section), tramp got laced (again painful that we didn’t put holes higher in central beam so platform doesn’t impede lacing), forestay bridle and traveller tightened, and mast and standing rigging popped up.

Then Liam kicked out the cradles (as I lifted each hull end).  We were happy to see that the beams did not explode in splinters when asked to hold the hanging hulls with the skids acting as fulcrums.  Kevin and the grlz showed up about then and helped walk around on the hulls to further test the beams.  Then Kevin helped me get the cradles back in place.  (Lifting each hull end is a tough affair when it’s all lashed together… Doing it alone will take a jack of some sort, or another use of a sturdy, kickable box.)

So, there she sits, ready for her inspection next weekend!

In the meantime, I spent this Tiki Tuesday laying out, cutting, and taping up a new bigger (13 m^2) crab claw sail.  It took a couple hours on the tennis court under a starry sky, but guided by Polaris and the Wharram/Boone crab claw for Tiki 21 plans, the sail came out looking great.  Used white WeatherGuard polytarp again (this time a 6×9 m), Samson , and Rhino Grip carpet tape.  The new meter tape measure worked great for getting nice curves, especially when ends were steadied by dual cinderblocks.  Next steps are to sew, grommet, and lace up to the long bamboo spars!

Christian and I discussed and sketched out plans to combine a 5-12 square meter kite with a bigger main crab claw sail (the 13 square meter one proposed by James and Hanneke in the Crab Claw Rig for Tiki 21 plans). A 6-7m2 kite and the 13m2 main would yield about 20m2 of sail area — close to the original wingsail+jib combination of 208 ft2. We decided our optimal set up for this combination was hoisting the main on a mast centered on the center beam, moving the mainmast forestays back to the forward beam ends, and then flying the kite from the center of the forward beam. The kite pilot could sit or stand on the tramp, or maybe sit on the forward beam with feet dangling…

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With the estimation that the kite lines are usually between 30 and 45 degrees off the bow of the board (or boat in this case), we’re hopeful that the forestays will not overly constrain for all points of sail. It may be trickiest going dead down wind (or preferably tacking downwind at least 30 degrees off dead-downwind) as the kite may de-power as the boat (pushed by the main) picks up speed. If the relative wind drops too far and the kite is up near neutral, it seems a worst case scenario would be a Hindenburg in which the kite drops behind the boat and the lines end up tangled in the rigging. We agreed to keep knives handy… Another worst-case scenario would be a broken forward beam or lashings, but we’re doubtful it will happen (kite lines are typically 600 lb test and the lashings are ~5 turns of 700lb test rope).

Christian helped pull down and peruse the 4 long (~7m) bamboo spars that Thomas found under the Ballard Bridge. We selected the straightest (or most uniformly curved) two. Later, I cleaned them up and marked mid-points, as well as the region on the upper spar that may need reinforcing (with extra bamboo or a 3m length of basalt sock?). Then I put beam cleats and hardware (main sheet lead/cleat, traveler blocks/prussick) back on — noticing a couple little spots where the black paint is thin, but gratefully realizing that more beam work can wait for next winter.

So it seems time to look for a dry place in which to stretch out the 24×30 white polytarp… All materials are ready for laying out, cutting, and at least taping up a new main!

Quite satisfying this evening to put the final touch-up coat of black Easypoxy on the last side of the beams. All they need now is a bit of black clean-up on the tops and a cross-linked coat of urethane before the cleats and other hardware can go back on. The tiller bar and extensions also got a little touch-up coat of black.

Also made a couple more of the T-shaped, gussetted legs that will hold the beams (and lashed-on hulls) above the trailer at a height that gives the keels adequate clearance when launching and recovering at the Waterfront Activity Center’s short, shallow dock. Next step is to re-attach the hardware on the carpeted skids to match the position of the two aft beams.