A Rough Sail Home

Monday I tried combining daysailing with fishing.  The day started out with a pleasant 10 mph southerly wind.  After a couple hours of tacking I eventually arrived at my favorite fishing spot.  Just as I arrived the wind died, which was perfect timing.  I fished for an hour or so but didn't catch anything.  Then, rather suddenly, the wind came back, this time from the North.  Looks like I'll have to tack all the way home too!

So I put away my fishing gear and started sailing back.  I couldn't help but notice that the wind was increasing rather quickly.  Up ahead I could see whitecaps forming.  I hove to, put on my rain gear and tied in a double reef in the main.  I knew I'd need it, and boy was I right.  I had to sail through the worst conditions I've experienced yet for an hour and a half.  As you can see in the wind chart from SailFlow.com, the winds went from near zero to 25 mph gusting to 30 mph in two hours.  Here's some video:

Conditions got even worse so I had to put the camera away, drop the main, and sail under jib and mizzen.  The boat handled the conditions just fine.  Me, I was a little rattled.  But let me tell you, I am so glad I ran my halyards back to the cockpit.  It was so nice to be able to drop the main while remaining safely seated in the cockpit.  I would not have wanted to walk up forward to deal with the main under these rough conditions.
And once again, I continue to be more and more impressed with Navigator's capabilities.  Will it never end?

The Incredible Self-Steering Ellie

Yesterday's daysail was one of the best sails I've ever had. It was a beautiful day. The day started off with very little wind.  I had to motor-sail from the launch but a short while later the afternoon breeze kicked in like someone flipped on a light switch. While I sailed towards Hat Island, the wind steadily built until I had to heave-to and don my rain gear. Later, as I rounded the NW side of Hat (Gedney), the wind calmed down and it turned into the most pleasant of conditions.

You know those conditions.  When the winds are a steady 10 knots, the seas have calmed, the sun is warm on your face. The only sounds are the waves on the hull, the breeze in the rigging, the occasional cry of a gull, and all those utterly delightful little squeaks and creaks that only a wooden boat can make.

Those are the conditions that cause the mind to wander, much as they once did for Albert Einstein.  Albert Einstein, in the summer of 1939, was seeking a unified field theory to unite several scientific principles. Einstein spent many hours aboard his 15 foot wooden sailboat Tinef (Yiddish for "worthless" or "junk,") forming his theories and perhaps exercising some of the many "thought experiments" that he is so well known for.  As my mind wandered, I wondered if there were any things that Einstein and I had in common - perhaps how we both enjoy sailing small wooden boats, how we both experienced how peace and solitude caused the mind to drift, and then I realized how reassuring it was that even a genius like Einstein can still be a poor sailor.

Gradually my thoughts wandered to self-steering.  Long ago I had read that a yawl can self-steer all by itself.  No wind vane steering mechanism.  No sheet-to-tiller steering.  No tiller tamer.  No auto-pilot.  No bungee cords.  A properly designed yawl, I vaguely recalled reading, can somehow be made to steer itself just by setting the sails in the proper way.  But how?  How are the sails set?  How does it work?  And was it really possible or just a legend?

I continued pondering.  It had to be some sort of balance between the jib and mizzen.  They would have to be set in a way that would cause the boat to round up if it were to fall off, and fall off when it rounded up. In between, the boat would have to sail balanced.  That means the boat's natural weather helm would have to be neutralized.  I knew that can be done by easing the mizzen.  Hmm.  Time for a "thought experiment". What if I kept the main and jib sheeted in tight but eased the mizzen out until the helm was neutral?  How would the boat react?  Seems like she'd sail straight with a neutral helm.  But what would happen when she veered off course?  I imagined when she fell off, the mizzen would catch more air which would then turn her back into the wind.  When she headed up, the mizzen would catch less air, begin to luff and lose power, and then the jib would cause her to fall off.  That's it!!!  She'd self-balance.  It made sense.  It seemed like it would work.  All that was left was to give it a try.

And much to my amazement, it worked!  It really, really worked!  For over an hour, while I ate lunch, recorded some video, took some photos and enjoyed the sun, Ellie happily sailed herself.

Initially I had a small line going from the tiller to a cleat for a while, but it didn't seem to be doing anything at all, so I removed it.  Sure enough, she still self-steered completely unassisted - not even by that small line.  I even tried shifting my weight around.  I sat on the front thwart, I stood on the aft thwart.  Didn't matter - it still worked.

I never touched the tiller in all that time until I finally had to call an end to it, or run aground on Camano Island.

No doubt there are experienced sailors out there who would pass this off with a yawn and a shrug and a "nothing to it, I do it all the time".  But they would be missing the great joy that I experienced yesterday.  The joy that a fellow mediocre, but thoughtful sailor spoke about when he said:

"Joy in looking and comprehending is nature's most beautiful gift."

-Albert Einstein

Lastly, I hope you enjoy this little bit of my delightful sail home.

The Rewards of Small Boats

My good friend Larry Cheek has written an excellent lead piece entitled "The Rewards of Small Boats" published on Opening Day of the Boating season, in the Seattle Times Pacific NW Magazine. Larry, as you may know, is the author of "The Year of the Boat", which is one of my favorite books (especially chapter 14) <grin>

100,000 page views

It's hard for me to believe, but this blog just passed 100,000 page views.

When I first set up this blog I honestly didn't think anyone would read it.  I don't consider myself a writer by any stretch of the imagination. In the engineering profession we are taught to be brief and to the point. To present the facts and figures.  Anything more is an unnecessary waste of people's time. There is a reason that there are very few novels written by engineers. Nor do I consider myself a very good sailor, or even much of a boat builder.  Ellie is only the second boat I've ever built.  What could I possibly have to offer a community, most of whom seem to have more knowledge and experience than I?

But maybe the reason this blog has had so many page views is for that very reason. Sure, everyone values expert advice, but it's also nice to read stories about the adventures, and misadventures of your peers.

Who knows?  All I know for sure is I am humbled and honored that so many are interested in anything I have to say.

I'd like to thank you all for tuning in.  I hope I can continue to hold your interest in the future.

Oh, and to celebrate this milestone, I've brightened up the place a bit.  Hope you like it.

Adventure is out there

Gosh it's been nearly a year since my last Blue Man Group sailing video. Sorry folks!  Here you go.  This is my favorite BMG tune, called Rods and Cones.  Crank it up!  In case you haven't guessed by now, I'm a big BMG fan.  Can't wait to see their new show.

This one is dedicated to my good friend Steve at Arwen's Meanderings. Here's wishing you some DECENT WEATHER this year my friend.  I hope you get plenty of sailing in this summer.  You earned it.

Spring Tweaks

I finally got around to tweaking a few things on Ellie that have been bothering me for a while.

Tweak #1:  Jib Fairleads
When I built Ellie, somehow I missed the note on plan sheet NV11 that tells you where to locate the jib fairleads.  They should be located 120mm aft of B4 and close to the coamings.  The fairleads have been relocated per the plans. Verdict: The jib shape appears noticeably improved.

Before

After

Tweak #2: Roller Furler deck block.
My roller furler line makes a 90 degree turn through a fairlead in the deck.  The arrangement works, but created unwanted friction and abrasion on the line.  I scoured the internet searching for a block that would work here but could not find one.  I finally gave up and fashioned my own.

After

Before

I made the deck block from a small swivel that I got from Duckworks.  I cut one leg off of one side, and added a roller to the other and mounted it right over the fairlead.  Verdict: works great. Much less friction and no more abrasion.

Tweak #3: Halyard Cleats
For my mainsail halyard cleats I was using cam cleats which, like all cleats, have their pros and cons. I liked how I could easily give the halyards a tug to tighten them but I didn't like the angle that I had to pull the halyards at, how they took two hands to secure the halyards, and how a stop knot was required in case the halyard became inadvertently released.  For my application the ideal halyard cleat should have these features

• Ability to secure the halyard to the cleat with one hand.
• Ability to remove the halyard from the cleat with one hand.
• Ability to pull the halyard at any angle.
• Ability to secure the halyard to the cleat with no possibility of it accidentally coming undone.
• Should not have plastic teeth that can wear out.

I couldn't find cleats that I liked so I ended up making my own jam cleats from white oak and painted them black to match my other cleats.  Verdict: I like them a lot. They met all my expectations.

Tweak #4: Whipping
I finally got around to whipping the ends of all my lines.  Verdict: very salty.

Tweak #5: Boom height
This was the biggest tweak.  The boom on my gaff-rigged Navigator is right about at chin level.  I've always wished it cleared my head like it does on the lug-rigged sailplan. So I decided to raise the boom enough to clear my head (10 inches) and give it a try.  This involved moving the gooseneck 10 inches higher on the mast and lowering the gunter on the gaff by 10 inches.

After with boom 10" higher

Before

Verdict: The jury is still out on this one. The boom clears my head nicely, but raising the sail 10 inches made a noticeable difference in the way the boat sails. The boat heels over more now and reacts more to gusts. One of the things I like most about Navigator is how stable and upright she sails. It was uncomfortable to feel her reacting this way.  I think I'll sail her a few more times with the boom in this position but right now I'm leaning towards putting the boom back where it was or at least not raising it quite as high.

Here is some video of the year's first sail, with the raised boom.

Maybe I should switch to a gooseneck mounted on a sailtrack.  What do you think?

Navigator Mast Handling

There's been a bit of discussion on the Welsford Builders forum lately about stepping the mast on a Navigator or Pathfinder. How difficult is it?  Can it be done unassisted by anyone, regardless of age or physical capability? Is a tabernacle necessary? How about stepping the mast on the foredeck or the front thwart instead?  Should the mast be built hollow or solid?  From wood or aluminum tubing?

It all depends on the abilities and desires of each individual builder of course, and that is one of the big advantages of building your own boat.

I built my mast hollow using the birds mouth technique. This technique is a bit more work, but results in a mast that is up to 40% lighter and equal in strength to a solid wooden mast.  The technique is well documented at duckworks.  It's well worth the additional effort in my opinion.  A lighter mast is not only easier to step and unstep, but reducing weight aloft also improves a sailboat's performance.

Here is a short video that shows how easy it is to step, unstep and handle the mast on my Navigator. My mast weighs 17 lbs (7.7kg) not including hardware.  It is not difficult to handle, and as you can see I'm no athlete. If you're a Navigator builder, I hope this video helps you decide how to build your mast.