Category Archives: Race to Alaska/r2ak

r2ak go/no go…

07 Tuesday May 2019

Posted by in How Does This Work, Race to Alaska/r2ak

≈ 15 Comments

[Photo: Shemaya Laurel]

Well, the sad report is that as our go/no go decision date of May 1st approached, I did a serious evaluation of the prospect of the cross-country car trip. There were benchmarks that I needed to reach, to pull this off, as far as so very many hours – and days – of car riding that would be involved in crossing the country. I’m sad to say that those benchmarks were so very far off that the conclusion was unequivocal, and I pulled the plug on AUKLET’s 2019 r2ak run, a couple of days before the 1st.

This has been sad for so many reasons: the sailing itself, through such wild countryside, and even more the tremendous community that is such a big part of the race. The contact with other racers is a treasure, and the enthusiasm of everybody – from marina staff and B&B operators to friends and family – when one says that one is signed up for the race is so incredibly much fun. I know for sure that all of this would be multiplied many times over, being actually there to do the race, and as it unfolds. I miss going forward with this, so much.

It was always a long shot, the possibility of pulling this off. The absolute miracle is how far it got: boat transport arranged; a full crew of dear friends signed on to help with my own travel; the boat, trailer, and minivan all in order enough that we could have completed it in time for the various departures. Crew for the first part of the race, and help with getting the boat rigged and in order in Port Townsend. All of these things fell into place, one by one, making this possibility very real.

On the bright side, in spite of this change, the organization for all of this is not lost. The boat is ready to go, and the trailer as well, with only small items still on the list. Unknowns have been resolved, in everything from where the boat would arrive in Port Townsend, to where it would stay before I got there, and where it and I would stay once it was floating. Huge questionmarks about requirements for meetings, and the pesky stairs, were all beautifully resolved with Daniel, the Race Boss, in a way that only added to the feeling of welcome and possibility. Transportation questions for folks coming and going, as part of helping with the team effort, were almost entirely clarified, as well as great headway being made on places for everybody to stay. If this gets tried again, so much is now sorted out.

It’s a good rehab goal, the prospect of riding across the country with enough comfort and stamina to make it doable. Although it was not possible to meet that goal in this timeframe, headway was made, and much fun has been had in the effort. With more time, I am not ruling it out. The r2ak organizers have said that they will make an announcement in September about changes to the race, going forward. For now they are not saying more than that… Who knows if the race will be significantly changed, slightly changed, or if this fifth year, in 2019, will have been its last. This uncertainty is what made it worth trying to do the race this year, even though it seemed improbable. And I am so glad we did.

It has been a perfect treasure, to get this far toward this goal that has been simmering for years. It will be enormously sad to not actually be there when the race sets out in June – but it would have been even sadder to have never applied. I thank every single one of the many people who made this possible:

Luke Tanner started it, when he said, early last September, “I could haul the boat to Washington – that would be easy.” And later when his schedule changed, he continued to say that if nothing else worked out, he would still do it.

Janine Georgette came forward and said, “I’ll drive you to Washington.” Our plan shifted over time, coming to include crewing on the boat, and some rearrangements in the driving piece. But like what Luke said, Janine also made the whole concept realistic, and, in fact, possible.

Chris Shelton, who I knew from fun in the Junk Rig Association, saw my note on Facebook about all this, asked if we had enough ground crew, and then volunteered. When I mentioned that leads on a person with a truck would be great, he responded with a photo, of his own truck.

Kate Fahey, early in the whole discussion, said she would be happy to come meet me – perhaps in Alaska – to be a “ferry buddy” for perhaps returning to Port Townsend that way, and then driving back across the country with me to Maine. “Ferry buddy” could just as well be “fairy buddy” – magic.

Suzanne Jean, when the westbound driving schedule became a little complicated, somewhere along the way had an epiphany to do with the prospect of this trip. Where it had previously looked to her like the worst idea in the world, and we had together completely rejected the idea of her doing it, she decided that actually it could work out just fine, and we went ahead modifying the minivan for both of us to camp in it, studying routes and making plans for fun places to stop along the way, and how we would meet Janine in Washington, where Suzanne would catch a plane home.

Suzanne did so much to make this possibility real. Working together on the boat, sorting out food plans, going for practice car rides, including whenever our icy, snowy road in the middle of the winter seemed reasonably passable. And so much more. None of this would have happened without her enthusiasm and generosity of time and effort. And we had fun!

So many other people helped with this project too: Dave McDermott did drawings, both whimsical, and a fantastic chart key. Chubba Kane was over here helping bolt parts on the boat in the late fall chill, and Chipper Daley brought his woodworking skills. Suzanne’s parents, Doris and Henri Jean, got out their pressure canners, and helped make boat food. Kate Fahey opened her home to be the first pitstop in western Massachusetts, where Suzanne and I would spend the night, including hosting a visit with Suzanne’s parents, so I could see them on the way through. Susan, Cuiee, and Aveour Masters said they would bring Doris and Henri over to Kate’s, for that visit, and I was so looking forward to seeing the three of them as well.

Judith-Kate Friedman, in Port Townsend, invited us to stay when we landed on that coast. Joanne Moesswilde offered enthusiasm and support, with ideas of coming to Port Townsend to help get the boat organized, and see us off. Tim Pfeiffer told me in September, “Let me know when you are accepted, and I’ll make a reservation in the RV park in Port Townsend, and be there for the days before the start.” Driving from Arizona! More friends offered enthusiasm and encouragement, from this continent, and from halfway around the world. As did folks I didn’t even know, who, after seeing the notice about Team AUKLET being entered in the race, wrote to offer everything from driving information for crossing the Rockies, to a friendly welcome in a harbor halfway up Vancouver Island. Junk rig sailors in the Pacific Northwest developed a plan to sail together, at the beginning of the race, with the fun of a junk rig boat being entered.

It has been such an incredible, unbelievable gift, to be the recipient of so much goodwill, and such generosity. I am so very touched. I would so love to be reporting in with pictures, a few weeks from now, of AUKLET with those snow-covered mountains on the BC coast in the background.

And what a ride it has been, just getting this far. I so thank you all.

r2ak preparation progress

25 Thursday Apr 2019

Posted by in Race to Alaska/r2ak, the boat

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This lovely drawing says it all. Thanks to Dave McDermott, who drew the picture, and to Chris Shelton, whose white pickup truck, with a little artistic license, is being shown. If all goes well, Chris and the boat will set out on May 6.

Boat transport related projects:

– Chris has gotten an electric brakes controller installed in his pickup truck.
– The boat trailer now has new tires, load range E, which is up a level from the previous set.
– Suzanne dug out the paperwork from when the boat and trailer went on truck scales a few years ago, and I was delighted to see that I had inverted the addition and subtraction for the weight of the empty trailer, in my memory, which means that the full load, boat and trailer, is actually around 4800 pounds. With the new tires, we are now well within a comfortable safety margin for the trailer load (the trailer is rated for 6000 pounds).
– Chris is planning to get new tires for his truck when he gets to Maine. He is also planning to drive up from MISSOURI to do this crazy trek… That’s some serious adventure spirit!

Still to go, for the trailer:
– squeezing lots of marine lithium wheel bearing grease through the special fittings on the hubs (bearings were inspected and repacked last year, and have only traveled about 20 miles since then)
– replacing the trailer’s electric brakes breakaway box. This activates the trailer brakes, if somehow the trailer disconnects from the tow vehicle while underway. That little box and its battery have been underwater one too many times during launches and retrieval, and have finally quit. The new box is going to have all its electrical surfaces coated with liquid electrical tape, holes drilled in the bottom of the box for drainage, and sealant put around the edges of the lid when it goes on. Theoretically, water will not go up into those holes, because of the trapped air. If nothing else, we might get one or two more dunkings out of it than the last one. Because of the tongue extension, and how deeply the trailer goes into the water, the submersion itself appears to be unavoidable.
– Doubling up the board we use across the bow to support the forward tiedown strap.

Boat projects:

Note: the rudder stock is actually completely vertical, and perpendicular to the deck – I have a mental block about getting good photos of this thing!

The lower part of the rudder stop, with the three dark screws, prevents the rudder from turning far enough to jam on the bottom of the hull, and has now been replaced – actually for the second time since the original got cracked during launching last year. Thank you Chipper Daley, for doing the wood shaping and drilling for this fussy part! In honor of the r2ak we redid the replacement version out of two layers of laminated marine ply, which thanks to Suzanne is now epoxy coated, painted, and reinstalled with dolfinite underneath. I was worried about the somewhat sharper corners on the latest version, and my toes in that rather constricted space, so we now have a foam cushion rounding off the edges. [Photo: Suzanne Jean]

For more about the rudder stop, see this post from 2014:
https://sailingauklet.com/2014/07/24/steering-rehab-part-3-the-rudder-stop/

– organizer bag for emergency gear
and for safety harness and tether. [Photo: Suzanne Jean]
These were a winter sewing project, and we’re happy to see them in place.

The story behind the safety harness/tether bag is that I do not habitually wear those – I tried doing it that way, but found that I “lost my edge” as far as caution about falling off the boat. So now I just use a tether during weather that means that even when one is attentive one might get tossed. But often when that kind of weather arises the equipment is inside the boat and unreachable with everything going on. Now it can be retrieved from the cockpit. I’m quite happy about this – I thank the r2ak for providing the inspiration for taking care of a number of these sorts of boat improvement projects.

– “Snag preventer” across the top of cabin cleats and the winch. Hopefully I’ll be adding a photo of this soon. It’s basically done: two eyestraps installed near the back corners of the cabin, and a piece of 2 inch webbing with clips on the ends and a buckle in the middle for tensioning, stretched over the offending snaggers, across from one side of the cabintop to the other. When in place, this will prevent lines from the mainsail being caught when the sail goes across the top of the cabin. This generally only happens when the wind and the waves are just so – usually tacking upwind in a short, boisterous chop. But when it does it’s not only annoying, requiring more energy and attention to hop up and prevent problems, but in a tight spot it can be a hazard, disrupting a smooth tack when it really matters, or hanging things up when gybing. Thanks again, r2ak – I’ve been meaning to do this for ages!

– anchor regalvanized (thank you Luke Tanner :-) [Photo: Luke Tanner]

– The depth sounder installation is a work in progress, being a task with several parts. The transponder is now mounted on the transom, and its long wire is threaded into the boat, across and through a ridiculously convoluted passage inside the stern, that involved a stiff piece of wire and both frustration and eventual celebration, and then a trip through the port cockpit locker, also involving challenges. The tricky thing about boat wiring is that you really must secure those wires. The picture below is the passage through the port cockpit locker, fastening onto existing wires, with a bonus view of drogue storage and its underway access.
This requirement for fastening includes when the wires pass through places that are not particularly accessible. (The odd plastic thing that shows in a couple of the photos below is the bilge pump, with its hose.) [Photo: Suzanne Jean] The heavy black coil is the excess transponder wire, which cannot be cut to length because of the custom connector on the end.

There is one more hole to drill for this task, and to coat with epoxy, but the worst of threading the transponder wire is done. The meter end is also now caulked in place, ready for wiring. That involved a 2 inch hole, and more epoxy.

All I can say is that I had better go sailing in this boat, after all this work!

Still to be done:
– tie down masts and sail bundle
– short anchor chain extension to be attached with C connector. The primary anchor rode on AUKLET, for the last several years, has been made up of 60 feet of 3/16″ chain, followed by 250 feet of 7/16″ “Brait” eight strand braided nylon. 3/16″ chain is not ordinarily used for anchors in this country; doing this is a French sailors’ trick, which I learned from my Alaskan friends, who picked it up from their friend from France. The theory is that 3/16″ chain is plenty strong enough for a moderate size boat, and if you have 60 feet of that lighter chain, it weighs as much as the ordinarily shorter length of 1/4″ (or 5/16″). But if you spread that weight over 60 feet, and you are only anchored in 20 feet of water, then you have a lot less weight to haul up all at once. Rather, you are collecting the first 40 feet of chain while only holding the weight of 20 feet at any given moment, which represents a major difference in hauling effort. To have adequate scope, you almost always let out the full 60 feet of chain, so you have the benefit of that weight for your anchoring, but much less work to pull it back up.

AUKLET’s chain had been getting a little rusty, and the anchor line in the first 40 feet or so was starting to show a bit of wear. If I had known that Luke was going to have this perfect galvanizing opportunity, I would have sent that chain to get regalvanized. As it is, an alternative solution last fall was to turn the anchor rode end-for-end, keeping the old chain generally unused, because it is now the very last bit of a long rode. A new 60 feet of chain was then spliced to the other end of the anchor line which was nice and fresh, and that new chain will be connected to the anchor.

I’m quite happy about this arrangement, because the anchoring depths in British Columbia and Alaska can be considerably more than here in New England. Now, there is not only 370 feet of rode, but the last section to go in the water is chain, which is a good place to put some additional weight, especially if one is anchoring in the kind of depths that might make all that length necessary. Last fall when we did this, we also replaced the basket under the chain pipe with a bigger one, so the whole business no longer overflows when the now larger pile of line and chain is fed down below deck. Swapping out those baskets sounds pretty insignificant, from a project perspective, but it was actually quite an undertaking because of the “cozy” location far inside that locker.

Meanwhile, I have had some concern about the small links of that 3/16″ chain where the anchor swivel attaches to it. I’ve wanted something more substantial for when the last chain link might be pulled sideways against the jaws of the swivel connection, especially when the anchor is dug in hard, and the wind or current changes. Unfortunately, a simple shackle connection between the anchor and chain jams up on the anchor roller, which means that the tapered swivel is a necessity, more for its shape than for the actual swiveling.

So this is our one more project about the anchor: to attach a short, 1 foot length of 5/16″ chain, to serve as a connector between the anchor swivel and the 60 feet of 3/16″ chain that does the bulk of the work. Again because it’s the Race to ALASKA, all of this has been getting attention. The only task left to go, for getting the anchor rode in order, is attaching that additional short length of chain. The anchor will be stowed separately for the trip across the country, but it’s a small matter to put it back on, once we are reunited in Port Townsend.

The boat also has another anchor the same size as this one, also with a substantial chain and line rode, carried both for additional anchoring during storms, as well as in case the first one is lost. Then there’s another lighter anchor with 200 feet of line and a shorter chain for more routine two anchor arrangements. Fortunately, those are not on the task list, but they seem worth mentioning so nobody thinks that we are setting out with only one!

Other Preparations

Janine, the other onboard member of Team AUKLET, came for a lovely visit last week. Decked out for projects!

Though we have been meeting by video call to make plans for the trip, we had not met in person, so this was a special treat. Along with plenty of really good conversation, we also sorted out clothing, got the masts positioned on the top of the boat, and actually had some time on the water. This visit coincided with the ideal high tide for moving the float from its winter to its summer position, and it was wonderful to have Janine’s help. Joanne came over from Belfast (Maine) for the fun, which it was. The float-moving process involves a substantial amount of time sitting around waiting for the tide between stages – perfect for enjoying good company! [Photo: Suzanne Jean] [Photo: Joanne Moesswilde]
[Photo: Suzanne Jean]

Luke came over that same afternoon with the anchor, and Phil Brown, and Brenda and their granddaughter Ellie, also showed up, with Luke and Phil going after rocks out by the float. The rocks have nothing whatsoever to do with the r2ak – more to come on that, when we are not completely r2ak focused!

Other preparation odds and ends are also progressing:
– organizing food and beginning to pack
– turning the minivan into a camper for the cross-country trip. This is a substantial project, involving far more time and production than is properly represented by that one little line. [Photo: Suzanne Jean]

– I got a tetanus shot for the first time in decades, in honor of this event and its remote location… I’m not necessarily happy about having chosen to do that, but it sure did make things relaxing when I got an ugly scrape the other day!
– charts are finally actually ordered
– foul weather gear upgrade, in honor of sailing in the rain forest. Many thanks to Fisheries Supply, in Seattle, for their generous racer discount, and to the r2ak organizers for setting that up. [Photo: Suzanne Jean]

The plan:

Everybody’s enthusiasm (and participation!) is making such a difference in this project, and I am enormously grateful to all. For a couple of reasons it is still somewhat up in the air about whether this will go forward, but we have all chosen to carry on with preparations in hopes that it will work. A go/no go decision is scheduled for May 1, which is coming up fast! If all goes well, Chris will set out with the boat/trailer first, and a few days later Suzanne and I will follow. Suzanne decided that making the whole drive across the country is something she feels like doing (Tim, I heard that!) So Janine will meet us in Port Townsend, before Suzanne catches a plane home. All the moving parts are a bit daunting, but it does seem to be coming together.

I will keep everybody posted… We have a Team AUKLET Facebook page, and Janine is looking at setting up a Team AUKLET Instagram for photos once everything gets going; I’ll post that last once we have it. In the meantime, here’s the FB link: https://www.facebook.com/TeamAUKLET/

Thanks so much to everybody who is part of making this possible – it’s a tremendous team effort! I am so touched.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This has been declared our team song, with many thanks to Judith-Kate Friedman, who lives in Port Townsend, and Aimée Ringle, Judith-Kate Friedman, Kate Copeland and Abakis – = Sirens Sing.
Judith-Kate’s YouTube page has more of her lovely work – it can be found by clicking on that tiny picture of her in the upper left corner of the video image.


Lyrics:

Whatever you can do
or dream you can
Begin it
Just begin it
Boldness has genius
Power and magic in it
Boldness has genius
Power and magic in it

~ Composed by Venice Manley, based on quote from Goethe
(attribution from https: //songsforthegreatturning.net/going-forth/begin-it/)

r2ak charts

29 Friday Mar 2019

Posted by in Race to Alaska/r2ak

≈ 8 Comments

Sorting out the chart question for the Race to Alaska has been an ongoing process. The choices range from stacks of paper charts, to dedicated electronics, to computers or iPads with chart software.

A full collection of paper charts to cover 750 miles is both expensive and heavy. On the other hand, electronic charts can be hard to read, and suffer all the failure possibilities of anything electronic. I can imagine few things more unnerving than to be out on the water in an unfamiliar coastal area with a piece of dead electronics, and nothing more than the sketches in the cruising guide (covering only immediate harbors) for any information about water depths, and the existence of both channels and rocks.

Chartbooks of reprinted government-produced charts, that are so convenient on US coastlines, do not appear to be available for the Canadian shore, possibly due to copyright issues with the Canadian government; NOAA charts in the US may be freely copied by anybody, including for secondary sale. There is a set of independently produced chartbooks, Marine Atlas, for which I had high hopes originally. Alas, volume 1 is in truly microscopic print (reading glasses + magnifying glass), and volume 2, for the more northerly section of the trip, does not show water depths, or latitude and longitude scales at the edges of each page. That last is a total dealbreaker.

As a result of all the above considerations, Team AUKLET will be carrying quite a few paper charts, along with a handheld chartplotter, and a Surface Pro 4 computer with additional electronic charts. But the paper charts will be our primary navigation resource. The computer uses too much electricity for routine navigation, and the handheld chartplotter can be seriously less than clear. I considered adding a hardwired chartplotter to the boat, but the combination of installation time, expense, and puzzles about where to locate it all nixed that idea. Besides, I really like paper charts: they are reliable, they show the big picture, and they add nothing to the electricity budget.

The hardest part about using individual charts for a long trip, to me, has been trying to keep them organized so it’s possible to find the right one at the right time without a crazy search. Sailing the New England coast, most charts are available in big Maptech chartbooks, with page numbers and an index chart at the front that has outlines showing the coverage for each individual sheet. Eventually it occurred to me that it would be ideal to have exactly such an index for the charts carried on the boat for the r2ak. Over the last few weeks, thanks to my cartographer friend Dave McDermott, we have been developing exactly that. The charts will be folded in quarters, plain side out, with large numbers written in a consistent corner of the fold; those numbers will correspond to the circled numbers on the chart index.

One might think that the overall chart indexes/catalogs available from NOAA and from the Canadian Hydrographic Service might do this job, without nearly so much extra work. But there are so many charts outlined in those catalogs that it truly becomes spaghetti, making it far from straightforward to sort out which is which. It has felt important, especially given the possibilities for functioning while seriously tired, to make this as simple as possible. Thank you Dave!

The resulting index is the one in the picture at the top of this page. It may be freely copied, just not for money, and with attention to the disclaimer about the possibility for errors and that it is not intended for navigation. For a PDF version with better resolution, click here to download: r2ak chart index-2019

Thanks again to Dave McDermott for this marvelous chart index. To see more of Dave’s cartography, and his thoughts on mapping, check out his blog: https://ofmapsandmapping.wordpress.com/

~~~~~~~

Next time:

For those in serious suspense, news is that boat transport now has a plan – more on that soon. Thank you Chris Shelton!

r2ak: Expedition Prep

10 Sunday Mar 2019

Posted by in Race to Alaska/r2ak, the boat

≈ 6 Comments

Thanks to Kent Mullikin’s friend in Mackerel Cove, Maine for this photo.

A lot goes into making an r2ak run happen. This is true for every single team, and even more for those who are traveling distances to get to the starting line. For Team AUKLET, the process breaks down into several categories:

Boat preparation – as in, any changes/additions to the boat itself

Boat transport preparation – tow vehicle and trailer (let’s talk about tires!)

Setting up cross-country travel for me, which involves friends to drive, minivan, camping and lodging arrangements, as well as transport for those friends to get to or from the part of the route where they are driving

And then, finally, the projects related to the sailing itself:

Provisioning: food; water supply; tools, gear, and other supplies; clothing for all aboard

Charts and navigation tools and references; electronics, and learning any new systems (yup, I finally got a smart phone – and a fancier handheld chartplotter)

Clearly the discussion of all this is more than one blog post! We can start from the top of the list:

Boat Preparation

This is not a large category, because the whole process has been ongoing for years. However, there are some bits.

Last year (2018), the rudder stop, which is in the cockpit and prevents the rudder from jamming against the hull when put hard over, took an extra strong hit while we were sliding the boat off the trailer into the water, and that crucial piece of wood cracked. The rudder did indeed jam against the hull, necessitating pulling the boat out of the water again so the rudder could be unstuck. We addressed this in the fall, with a replacement stop made out of teak. But when the Race to Alaska started looking really possible, I started looking at the grain on that new piece, and thinking about the way the old one had split, and the way the new one could split again, at 90° to the recent failure. This was somewhat concerning for local sailing, and absolutely not something I wanted to worry about halfway to Alaska. So a new piece, this time out of two pieces of plywood laminated with the grain for each one at 90° to the other, is in the works. It’s a fussy thing to make, needing to follow the original shape quite precisely, with screw holes to match the existing holes where it gets mounted. Thank you Chipper!

The most major addition to the boat is an electronic depth sounder. British Columbia and Alaska waters border on tall and steep mountains, and the topography continues below the waterline, dropping fast. Anchoring in 60 feet is not the least bit unheard of, and of course in order to do that properly you need to have determined that depth. Though my hardy Alaskan friends do this sounding routinely with a lead line, it’s more work than I am fired up to do, with multiple soundings and retrievals required for each anchoring effort. Relying on a lead line has been just fine when anchoring in 10 to 20 feet, as I generally do around here in New England, but particularly in the interest of staving off fatigue, electronics have felt in order for the Race.

Fancy fish finders are nice, showing all sorts of contour to the bottom – and maybe even fish! But compared to a simple numerical readout they use more electricity, and also have more lag time between soundings and on-screen presentation. Further, depth sounders work using sonar noise. It seems a no-brainer that all that additional information and charting of a detailed fishfinder is going to involve quite a bit more noise added to the underwater environment. In some regions, sailors are now requested to turn off depth sounders, of any kind, in order to reduce impacts on marine mammals, particularly orcas. So this very minimal sounder will hopefully be less intrusive, as well as being installed with an easily reachable switch so that it is only turned on when needed. It’s a perfect bonus that all of this will also conserve electricity/battery reserves.

Before the deep cold arrived in December, we got as far as laying out where the parts will go and how the various wires will run. It’s now almost warm enough – it got over 30°F yesterday! – to start thinking about getting back to this. I’m looking forward to it.

Another odd project is the installation of a single oarlock socket on the starboard cockpit rail. The route to Alaska includes passages with substantial current. Going through those without a motor can be just fine, in the absence of rocks in the middle, but if the wind quits one needs another way to control the boat’s position in the stream. A boat making no speed through the water will naturally turn crossways to the current, and be carried downstream. Think of a small stick, tossed into flowing water. With no relative motion between the boat and the water, the rudder will not be doing any steering, and it’s unrealistic to think that yuloh power will fight that chaotic current, to get enough relative speed for the rudder to work. I’ve experienced this, going through Plum Gut, off of the end of Long Island, New York. The current swirls quite a bit, and the boat has a life of its own, turning in the eddies as it is overall swept through the passage, with no wind to speak of in that dead spot in the middle of the Gut.

The only hazard in this situation, so long as there aren’t big waves or overfalls – and apart from traffic – is if the boat gets somehow pushed toward the shore. Control can be maintained with a single oar, positioned something like midships, which can be used to move the boat forward or backwards as it lies perpendicular to the flow of water and is carried downstream. I have not done this, but my Alaskan friends use this approach routinely, cruising in their engineless sailboat. It sounds good to me, and all we need is another oarlock, and a test for fit with the yuloh. In a pinch, the kayak paddle that is also carried aboard might work the same way, with the oarlock for a fulcrum. Of course the yuloh in its ordinary position would still be fine for moving the boat forward – it’s the backwards option that is really crucial, and makes it worthwhile to add this simple piece of gear. I’ve been meaning to do this for ages, and now is the time.

That’s about it for modifications to the boat. This is a good thing, because there is quite a lot else to take care of! Further preparations will be described in upcoming posts.

Race to Alaska

26 Saturday Jan 2019

Posted by in Race to Alaska/r2ak

≈ 18 Comments


It’s a long shot. In September, when I applied to enter the 2019 Race to Alaska, May seemed far enough away for preparations, and I was – and remain – delighted to have been accepted.
See details about the race here: https://r2ak.com

The biggest complication to making this happen is that the Race to Alaska (or r2ak) is on the west coast, and I am 3500 land miles away in Maine, with a certain number of complexities to the prospect of getting across the country. When this past December rolled around, with some clarification of who was interested in being part of this crazy trek, and who was (very sensibly) not, I one day decided that, realistically, 2020 would be my year, and not the upcoming 2019. But the universe apparently has other ideas.

The evening of that very day, after my grand decision to wait for 2020, I happened to check the statistics page for this blog, which I had not done in quite a while. That page shows how people have come to look at the blog, with links to other pages that have referenced Sailing AUKLET; one of those links was to a not to be named sailing website. Now, I ordinarily, these days, refuse to look at that particular site, having to do with massive sexism and very obnoxious email exchanges between the person who runs it and women who have written to encourage a more inclusive approach, including me. But there it was, that link. When I followed it back to the AUKLET reference, I happened to read the somewhat secret information, apparently disclosed only at the previous fall bash for r2ak racers, that 2019 would be the last year that the Race would be put on in the way that it has been for the last four years. At least that’s how I heard it. This statement, in the version confirmed a couple of days ago by Kate Philbrick, one of the race contacts at the Northwest Maritime Center, is that “There will be an announcement this fall about a change in the race for 2020.” It’s more ambiguous than how I took it at first mention, but you never know.

Now, I have been preparing for the Race to Alaska, in its current form, for at least five years, since it was first proposed and its rules were made public. AUKLET has been outfitted, and I have been developing my sailing skills, all with that race as a guiding theme. The idea of actually doing it has always been far-fetched, given some of the assorted obstacles, but nevertheless, as we now say, I have persisted.

Quietly, the various requirements have been ticked off the list: night sailing; heavy weather capabilities (the junk rig has been part of this); building, testing, and becoming comfortable with the yuloh, as no motor is allowed to be on the boat for the race, but you still need a way to move around when the wind dies.

Furthermore, on the yuloh subject, human power is required to get in and out of Victoria Harbor, because raised sails are not allowed past a certain point by the Port of Victoria harbor authorities. This restriction means that one must do something else for the last mile from the harbor entrance to the dock in the inner harbor, where the bell that marks the finish of the qualifying leg of the race is located. My entire effort toward becoming a motorless sailor, though interesting to me anyway, has been particularly inspired by the motorless aspect of the r2ak.

The list of race-inspired undertakings goes on and on: water collection; the boat farm; the trip in 2013 with enough stores for five months, and no shore support at all for six weeks (because if you are going to make the roughly three-week trip to Ketchikan, you might as well sail further into Alaska after the race is over). The Race has been a fantastic guide.

So I have not been excited about the prospect of postponing to 2020, with some kind of unknown changes to how it might be run.

A couple of issues had been bothering me, thinking about the 2019 possibility. One is the pesky stairs at the beginning of the Victoria start. But here’s the real laugh: I’d gone from seeing them in a video a couple of years ago; to building them up to truly gigantic in my mind, and an almost insurmountable obstacle; to the point of being completely confused even about their actual location. Then the 2019 race information came, and referred to the start being from the seawall above the marina, and I thought, “how cool, no stairs!” But this was also not correct. In checking about the above-mentioned changes to the race for 2020, I also threw in a question about the stairs, and which part of the seawall would be the starting point for the 2019 race. Answer: top of the stairs. So I went to find them again online, to get a good look. Although they are not tiny, they are not the gargantuan sweeping staircase from my mental image. And they have a fantastic railing, looking quite doable (at an appropriate pace, after the crowd has passed). You can see them here:

Another issue that had been bothering me was the last stretch of the main leg of the race. Ordinarily, after you cross an international border by sea, you are not allowed to “touch land” – whether the shore itself, or the bottom underneath the water (say, with your anchor) – before presenting yourself to the border authorities at an official check-in location. Ketchikan is the nearest one of those locations, after crossing the BC/Alaska border, but it’s a solid (so to speak) 40 miles from the closest anchorage on the Canada side, to get to that port of entry. That’s a bit of a long coastal run, especially solo, in the best of conditions. And crossing Dixon Entrance – the open water that helps define the British Columbia/Alaska boundary – is known for horrendous weather and seas. It can be hard sailing, both strenuous, and long.

After the open water crossing there are 30 miles of narrower channels (read: no naps), which depending on the wind might be easy, or also long and tiring, before one actually gets to Ketchikan. With poor wind, the sailing time could be measured in days, rather than hours. Very good-looking anchorages exist on the Alaska side, in that extended stretch before Ketchikan, but then there’s that border rule. In a second bit of excellent news, the race organizers have worked something out with the US authorities, so that boats participating in the Race to Alaska are allowed to anchor on the American side before they check in at Ketchikan.

The evening that I read the piece about unknown changes to the race after 2019, I ditched the postponement idea, and designed and ordered T-shirts. (In a break with the usual routine on this blog, I might actually receive something from sales of these shirts.) https://www.zazzle.com/team_auklet_front_and_back_t_shirt-235152640063835820?rf=238511339488396072

Not too long after the T-shirt fun, I discovered that my imaginary gigantic staircase was not quite such an issue, as well as the piece about anchoring being allowed on the north side of Dixon Entrance. The possibility of actually doing the 2019 race became quite a bit more real, though getting across the country remains the largest complication. On this too, there have been developments.

Once the T-shirts were designed, I delightedly showed off the link to a friend who also has a T-shirt project going, related to her own sailing efforts. She declared herself part of Team AUKLET on the spot, sweetly asking what she could do to support this expedition. Things have since developed, and we have a tentative plan for driving across the country, and sailing together for at least the first part of the race! See what Janine has been up to here: https://www.janinegeorgette.net/blog/

Enthusiasm and offers of help have been coming from numerous directions, all contributing to the possibility of this crazy idea actually going forward. My dear friend Kate will be on summer break from her work in the school system when it’s time to come home, and likes the idea of driving back from Washington state together. “Driving together” is a euphemism – I actually don’t drive at all nowadays, and these driving friends are gamely signing on for all of the time behind the wheel, 3500 miles one way notwithstanding.

Getting AUKLET across the country is yet to be sorted out, but I would not have even thought this overall idea was possible without another friend, Luke, who initially suggested that it would be perfectly easy for him to haul the boat with a truck, and he would be happy to do it. Scheduling constraints are not working out for him after all, but when he said it in early September it really opened the door to the overall possibility, and his original offer seriously contributed to my putting in the race application in the first place. There are definitely other ways to get AUKLET across the country, with many boat transport companies out there; alternatively, if anybody knows a reliable person with a full-size truck capable of trailing 6000 pounds over the Rocky Mountains (expenses/fee paid), and time for doing that in early May, there is also that opportunity to be part of this crazy effort.

Further inspiration has been provided by Tim, who comes to Maine during the summer, and has been particularly enthusiastic about this race proposition. He and his wife Jane travel by RV, and he was already familiar with the RV campground that sits right on Point Hudson, overlooking the Port Townsend start of the r2ak. Not long after we talked about it all, he wrote to say that he had reserved a site for most of the week before and up to the start of the race. That certainly made it real!

Here at home, boatyard projects have been proceeding with the possibility of all of this in mind. Suzanne has generously been out in the shed with me, drilling new holes in the boat for proper eye straps for the solar panel tiedowns, which up until now have been less than ideal, and Chubba came over to help with the installation. Other projects are ongoing, some of them now waiting for the winter cold to break.

Inside the warm house, I’m studying charts, and working out plans. Earlier this month the r2ak registration went in, which is cheaper if done by January 15, and we are now official:

https://r2ak.com/2019-teams-full-race/team-auklet/

The whole prospect is still far-fetched, but if the pieces keep dropping into place it could happen. I’m approaching it with openness to cosmic guidance, and thoroughly enjoying the ride.

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Photo from the Facebook page for Team KELP, two women who did the race – and did science along the way! – in 2017. This is in Johnstone Strait, inside of Vancouver Island https://www.facebook.com/teamkelp/

Maybe Not Done

29 Friday Jun 2018

Posted by in Race to Alaska/r2ak, Why Go Sailing

≈ 14 Comments

It took until about March for the water to look a tiny bit appealing. One warm day (comparatively) and a little breeze, sitting on the shore. It happened again in April, once or twice. By May it occurred to me that if a boat had a little more space, and if it were in a quiet cove, I might like it. The fear wore off, with a good long rest. Being about done with the discomfort, not so much.

Two weeks ago, middle of June, the 2018 Race to Alaska started in Port Townsend, Washington. This year they had perfect weather for the initial crossing to Victoria, streamed for all the rest of us to see on Facebook live. “For THAT race,” I said, “it would be worth being uncomfortable.” Knowing full well the pounding they took in 2017, and the long calms, the year before that, has not seemed to interfere. This year, 80° for days, and a lot of rowing, peddling, and paddling. Eventually the wind came, and the temperature dropped. Seven women got to Ketchikan first, all the rest of us bursting with pride. I ordered some charts. Actually, I ordered them the day the boats all set out from Port Townsend.

It’s far-fetched, the possibility of Race to Alaska 2019 including an entry with my name. What’s nice to feel is that given the right motivation: Alaska, BC, mountains, fjords, true silence – even a drive across the country – something inside lights up. I’m happy on land. But the room that had gone dark, that is filled with sailboats, might have the kind of light that comes with dawn. Faint, in the east. With stars.

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On the plus side, as far as practical realities of the r2ak, there is that ever since the Race to Alaska was proposed about five years ago, its requirements have been a guiding theme in AUKLET’s development, and my own. Motorless – check. Human power (yuloh) – check. Navigation, current, big tide. Stores for weeks. Water (see rainwater collecting). Check, check, check. Heavy weather sailing – see junk rig. Check. Night sailing. Solitude. Check, check.

The work that was done in these past years has stayed, banked, even as I walked away. The boat capable of such a trip is right there in the boat shed. It dawned on me in the last few weeks that what changed, in my lessening enthusiasm over this last while, is that with so much familiarity, and so much practice, I was getting bored. Who would’ve thought! There was stress, and there was discomfort, but there was not the newness of the unfamiliar, and the delight at finding one’s way. And the all-absorbing challenge, to expand into such new territory, which goes so far to counterbalance the stress and the discomfort. But ALASKA! And British Columbia, which is the bulk of the Race to Alaska. Lots to not know, in that proposition. To study, and to see how it unfolds.

So maybe it’s not done. Applications for entering the 2019 R2AK open in September. In the meantime, though the front runners are all snug in Ketchikan now, the 2018 race is ongoing, particularly for those in small craft that are paddled or rowed. Soon the sweep boat – affectionately called the Grim Sweeper – will be making it a real race for those on the slow end of things. If I get in the race, I would expect to be somewhere in the middle, or having my own personal run with the Sweeper. But there is no shame in that. Being in the race would be by far the greatest victory. With bonus mountains. Whales. Sea otters. And me.

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For information on the Race to Alaska, see: https://r2ak.com/about/r2ak-explained/