Saturday, December 22, 2012

Stormy Sail From Hope









Sail From Hope – Labor Day Weekend 2002


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 1930’s 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.

 
          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.

 
That is what Dad and I did.  After hoisting sails, we struck off on the southwesterly course, close hauled – averaging 5.5 knots.  Because we were protected by Picard Point, the water was fairly flat and the winds were somewhat moderated.  We sailed this SW
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
 
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?

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