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.

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…

At long last, we sanded down and painted the bottom of the beams — a task that was outstanding since the wedding rush last August. Mike and I first pondered main hatch latches and then forward hatch neoprene seals (super glue bonds neoprene to epoxy very nicely where 5200 failed!). After removing cleats and other hardware, we sanded down the filled holes and other bits on the beams. A glossy coat down on a single face of each beam (two bottoms, one side), as well as first coats on the tiller bar and masthead, and we were free to ponder trailer designs. No clear answer yet, but a few exciting potential solutions for our boat, trailer storage dimensions, and boat ramp idiosyncrasies.

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Mike and I — both quasi-sick — put in a couple hours assembling the main hatches (countersunk machine screws, attached SS handles, sanded corners that hit upon lifting).  We also put a second coat of truck bed liner on the bottom of the platform sections, focusing on trying to fill in a couple little gaps on the bottoms.

Thomas and Kevin re-joined the mayhem tonight.  Through banter about poking dead things and other facets of our technological age, they helped Matt, Mike, and Scott with gluing neoprene seals into forward hatch covers, prepping the main hatch overlapping hinge bits, and protecting the bottom of the platform sections.  Thomas came up with a good clamping method for holding neoprene in place while 5200 set.  Mike and Scott decided to skip plans to glass seams on bottom of center platform section — as well as epoxy coating sanded/rounded corners, priming, and painting — and instead slapped a thick coat of truck bed liner onto the entire bottom surfaces of the three sections.

By the monochromatic glow of the sodium street lamp, have we created another monster?  It looks promising at the moment — with the grey color suggesting Naval fortitude.  We just hope it holds back the nightmares of dry rot that Thomas described from his recent Tsunami Chaser check-up.

Main hatch reinforcing ribs

Mike and Scott met at Matt’s to mix up some glue and get the main hatches reinforced.  September is proving to be horribly rainy and we’ve had a few close calls on our maiden voyages with folks nearly stepping through the 1/4″ ply.  We considered 1/2-round hemlock and the triangular strips called for in the plans, but — after a butt crack test — ended up (ha!) going with the nearly square ripped 1×2 mahogany.  It seems stiffer than the hemlock and will introduce less of a color contrast (or staining-matching headache).

We puzzled a bit over the rib spacing.  The plans call for 6″, but that seemed to leave too much space at the hatch ends.  With moderate trepidation, we ended up going with ~6.5″ which is close to the separation of the mounts on the SS handles that Thomas acquired to serve as hinges…