This adventure all began as part of the annual Hope
rendezvous hosted by the Lake Pend Oreille Yacht Club. Every Labor Day, the LPOYC hosts a “sail in”
to Kramer’s resort at the Northeast part of Lake Pend Oreille in the little
town of Hope Idaho. Hope is about 12
miles East from Sandpoint: it’s around 24 miles North from Bayview. So, a fair sail from either town. Kathy had to work Labor Day weekend, so I
invited my Dad to ride along as crew. My
brother Bob and his wife were sailing their 1941 vintage 30-foot Dunnagan
Sloop; plus I had “invited” several novice skippers to join in the fun.
By 10:30, each boat had slipped its moorings and all
were heading to Hope. The day was
beautiful with blue sky and big puffy white clouds. During the first hour and a half or so, it
was slow going for anyone trying to sail.
No Wind! Dad and I motored around
200 feet aft of Bob; maintaining a steady 5 knots. By the time we were passing Whiskey Rock,
there were some ripples on the water. A
half hour later both Bob and I had our sails raised and were sailing in light
breezes at about 4 knots boat-speed. We
played “tag” for the next four hours, crossing tacks while broad reaching and
running wing ‘n wing. It was one of
those really terrific sails that we’ll remember for a long time.
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By 4:30 PM, we were all tied to the docks at Kramer’s and were preparing to fix dinner. With 20 or so boat crews in transient slips and end-ties there were lots of people on the docks. By 7 PM, both Bob and I were ready to untie and head off to
one of my favorite anchorage sites along the South
shore of Ellisport Bay. We anchored
about 200 feet apart in 25 feet of water.
Dad said he was tired at about 9 PM and headed for the v-berth. I was still wide-awake, so after writing in
the log, I stayed up watching the stars and meteor showers till around 11
PM. The last thing that I did before
crawling into the quarter berth was to listen to the VHF weather. To my surprise, the weather forecast for
Sunday had been changed to include strong winds and cloudy skies with a threat
of rain. Winds predicted to be 15 to 25
knots with gusts to around 35 knots.
Sunday morning dawned according to the predictions
of the night before. The skies were
overcast and even in our protected anchorage, there were small wavelets lapping
against the hull. The occasional gust
would heel us over to around 4 or 5 degrees before Snickerdoodle would swing
back head to wind. We decided to have
breakfast and not weigh anchor until mid-morning. I used the time after breakfast to rig my
jack-lines along both side decks from stem to stern. Dad and I discussed the life jackets, safety
harnesses & tethers, man-overboard procedures, how to use the bilge pump,
and reefing procedures. I also rigged a
dousing line for the jib so that neither one of us would need to go forward to
lower the jib – if needed.
Anchor up and stowed in the anchor locker at 9:30
and we were motoring at around 3.5 knots out of Ellisport Bay toward what
looked like pretty rough conditions. I
wanted to wait to hoist sails until we were past Hope Point to make sure that
my sail selection was really what I wanted.
Bob had radioed that he was planning to hoist a reefed main and his
storm jib. My plan was for a first reef
in my main and the 97% Blade Jib. As we
passed Hope Point, I was pleased with my choice and we started hoisting the
sails.
Many people are surprised to learn that Lake Pend
Oreille is a very deep lake. Nearly 2/3
of its 45 mile long by 10 mile wide body is water with a depth of more than 700
feet. The deepest places in the lake are
more than 1,100 feet deep. However, the
northern 1/3 of the lake shoals quickly to less than 50 feet. This means that any storm and wind from the
South will kick up some really nasty waves in the approaches to Hope
Point. I’ve heard different people
describe 6 foot and 8 foot waves that they’ve experienced in this part of the
lake during heavy weather. And, while I
didn’t expect to see anything like that, I had decided to sail a Southwesterly
course for my first leg to avoid the bigger waves.
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course for about a half
hour. Then we tacked over to a
southeasterly course – starboard tack - a prepared for a 5 nautical mile beat
into the teeth of the storm. The first
big gust that hit us after we cleared Picard Pt. laid Snickerdoodle over and
washed the portside windows for 15 seconds or so. That gave us an idea of what to expect.
My Dad is a great crew. He is fit for his age (79) and in good
health. But, Dad has suffered with
macular degeneration and failing vision for several years. That hasn’t kept him from staying active
golfing, snow skiing and sailing.
Nevertheless, it does mean that he cannot see straight ahead. Most of the waves we were encountering were
about 1.5 to two-footers. There were
exceptions though. Sets of two or three
waves in the four-foot range would roll toward us every few minutes. Dad couldn’t see these “big ‘uns”. So as a big wave approached I’d call out,
“Here comes a big one.” And Dad would
brace himself for the roller coaster ride.
In the gusts – which were in the 30 to 35 nm range –
Snickerdoodle would heel over with water on the portside deck. Frequently a large dollop of spray from the
bow would rise up and douse both Dad and me.
The boat-speed would drop to around 1.5 knots, and our leeway progress
would be substantial. It really felt
like the boat was being dragged sideways through the water. Then the gust would subside and we’d be back
to a 20 degree heel and 4.5 to 5 knots of speed. This condition continued until about 11 AM
when the wind seemed to be in the thirties continuously. A very long sustained gust!! At that point, I tucked in the second reef
and pressed on. The boat motion was much
improved, but we were still washing the deck in the gusts, and getting wet from
lots of spray. Something needed to be
done to make things more comfortable, so at around 11:30 I doused the jib. This worked wonders and we were now sailing
comfortably with around 15 degrees of heel and 4 knots of boat-speed. And, I tacked back to port tack to begin
another long tack of 6+ nm to Grouse Point just North of Talache Landing. We accomplished ¾ of this leg under double
reefed mainsail alone.
About this time, Bob called on the VHF. He had decided that he’d had enough “fun”
slogging to windward and was ducking into Camp Bay to rest for a few hours – to
see if the storm would blow itself out.
Minutes later, Matt Christensen on his C22 radioed to say he was joining
Bob. A third boat ducked in with them
shortly thereafter.
By one o’clock in the afternoon, the wind was
subsiding and I hoisted the jib
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again. By two o’clock, we had shook out the second reef and at 2:30 hoisted a full main. The wind continued to decrease. The clouds parted. And, by three PM it was a beautiful sunny afternoon with no hint of
the morning’s storm. The wind died away to the point that we
ended up motor sailing the
last
five or six
miles back to the marina…..Dad having relieved me on the helm. We tied up in the slip at a little after 4
PM. Both Dad and I were tired from the
day on the water, but both were excited about the trip and pleased with the
performance of boat and crew.
What had we done that made us feel pleased and excited
instead of exhausted and wishing we had never started in the morning? Several things ………
1) Our sail selection had been
good. I did wish that we’d used a storm
jib when the winds were at the strongest.
But, overall, the sail selection was good.
2) We had started out in a
“sail safe” mind set. The jack-lines
were rigged and ready. We had our
harnesses and PFDs on. I actually went
forward three times during the strong winds……each time tethered to the
jack-line.
3) Both Dad and I knew what the
procedures for man overboard and emergency situations. And, we had confidence that the other would
be able to do his part if something went wrong.
4) Even though the wind and
waves were strong, we shortened sail at appropriate times and were able to keep
sailing to windward with good speed and control.
We
had a wonderful weekend plus a challenging and interesting sail. On the drive back to Spokane in the car, Dad
said, “I think I’d like to do more of these rendezvous things with you.” That says it all, doesn’t it?
Snickerdoodle
(Catalina 25 TR/FK - hull #4839) has been owned since Dec 1984 by Bill and
Kathy Holcomb since she was brand new.
First
Photo
– Bill’s Dad (Bill Sr.) while at anchor in Ellisport Bay.
Brother Bob’s Dunnagan 30 in the background
Second
Photo
– Storm blowing up Lake Pend Oreille
Third
Photo
– Sunny afternoon at the Bitter End in Bayview, ID