The Dream
Since I was in my early teens, when I first read of the exploits of another young boy, Robin Lee Graham, who sailed a tiny sloop, Dove, from San Francisco to Hawaii and then a slightly larger Dove to continue his solo voyage around the world, I've wanted to sail a boat on the open oceans far from land to exotic destinations.
My Dad had an extensive library of sailing books, magazines and National Geographics which I devoured and spent many an hour day dreaming of sailing. Feeding into this habit, my uncle Wayne had a Paceship 29 that he'd take me out on once or twice a summer while I was in PEI and he'd let me helm the boat. Once I felt the calm serenity of sailing in reality, I knew for sure that this was something that I really wanted to do. While at university in Kingston (the so called sailing capital of Canada where we hosted the 1976 Olympics), I'd often rent small sailboats and sail around the large bay. I eventually bought a windsurfer and spent much time racing back and forth along the bay but I always knew I wanted a bigger boat. When ever we went on all-inclusive vacations in the Caribbean, I'd always spend as much time as I could on the resort's catamarans sailing around the beaches as fast I could go.
From my early days of reading Dad's books and magazines, I've wanted to someday own an Amel (French made dedicated cruising boat). They always advertised in Cruising World and it seemed to me to be the right boat. Henri Amel was the Nomme de Guerre of a French resistance fighter during WW2 who after the war got involved in the early design and construction of fibreglass cruising boats. They are known to be large (46-64') ketches (two masts, the rear one, shorter and in front of the rudder) that are purpose built and meant for a husband and wife to easily sail in the heaviest of waters with enough automation to ensure safe passages. The idea behind the ketch rig was to divide the sail area amongst the two masts making each sail smaller and easier to handle while designing the boat to go downwind in the Tradewinds without effort. They were very early on the automation of sail handling with electric roller furling Genoa, mainsail and mizzen (aft main sail) and electric winches. The cabin top was joined at the factory to the hull in one piece and the boats come with 7 individual water-tight cabins ensuring that as long as two remained dry, the boat would still float. They were decades ahead of their time and while a bit unconventional, everything was done to reduce maintenance (such as fake teak decks) and increase redundancy. A boat after my own heart. Unfortunately, they are true ocean going boats and not really fit for even our Great Lakes so while I'd seen them in magazines and on youtube, I'd never seen one in person.
It took me another 20 years but I eventually bought my own sailboat, a Paceship Northwind 29, very similar to my uncle's (less cabin but more cockpit - better for day sailing in Lake Simcoe where I kept it),
and learned to sail it around Lake Simcoe and took it up to Georgian Bay with my kids on many a week long voyage, dropping and raising the mast each way to make the transit of the Severn Canal.
It wasn't much of a boat, it needed lots of work, but I added roller furling sails to it along with significant electronics (GPS, Autopilot, Depth, Speed, Temperature, Wind Speed/Direction) so that I could take it into the 30,000 more or less single handed (well me with 4-5 young kids). My youngest son, Shawn, learned to walk on the sailboat and I credit it with giving him his phenomenal sense of balance. and learned to sail it around Lake Simcoe and took it up to Georgian Bay with my kids on many a week long voyage, dropping and raising the mast each way to make the transit of the Severn Canal.
A busy work schedule and our year-long sabbatical caused me to take the boat out of our local Hawkestone Yacht Club and put it on the hard north of Orillia where it languished, often thought about but never used (or visited), for 8 long years. When I was given my retirement package this spring, the very first thing I wanted to do was put her back in the water and spend the summer sailing her around Georgian Bay.
Unfortunately, boats don't like being unused, and I had lots of work to do to get her back in shape including a minor rebuild of the engine to even get her to start. It took me much longer than I wanted, and I had a few leaks to fix and a transmission cable to replace so that she'd go into gear, but I eventually got her into the water and did manage to spend some (but not enough) time sailing her in Georgian Bay which are some of the best fresh water cruising grounds in the world.
I had a few very good days and nights sailing into some of my favourite anchorages and discovering new ones and rekindled my joy of sailing once again. Unfortunately the boat is not yet reliable and I have to pull the engine to fix the transmission which is somehow taking in water and causing the clutch to slip which makes getting in and out of my slip somewhat problematic (I actually sailed it into the marina and docked it by myself one day when I couldn't get the engine going - because the starter had filled with oily water from the transmission it turned out). I've pulled the boat and will entirely rebuild the engine and transmission over the winter.
As part of my retirement, I've been dreaming about getting a much larger boat (the 53' Amel Super Maramu that I've always dreamed of) and doing some cruising outside of Ontario in warmer waters during our winters. My ever practical wife, Jen, suggested to me that perhaps I should volunteer on the type of boat I'm interested in and actually do an offshore passage to ensure that "my dream" matched the reality before making the big leap (i.e. "Would I actually LIKE doing offshore passages in a small sailboat and could I actually handle it?"). This was a brilliant idea, and while I'm astonished that it never occurred to me to do this before, I began to contact Amel owners on their very helpful forum which they use to ask/answer questions on the boat type. I got three responses from boats on the east coast of the US that were contemplating passages south this fall to the Caribbean. The first, out of Huntington NY, was able to secure enough crew from his usual crew mates so didn't work out. The second was already in the Caribbean and offered me to do a long passage next spring from Panama to the Marquesas (through the Galapagos) but really wanted a couple and offered for Jen and I to do some cruising with them this winter in the Caribbean.
The third was from a retired Internist/Anesthesiologist who wanted to take his boat from St. Michael's Maryland (in the Chesapeake Bay) down to Florida so that he and his girlfriend could cruise on this this winter in the Caribbean. This seemed ideal as it allowed me to sail in some of the roughest waters but not too far from shore so that we couldn't duck in if we saw a big storm coming and I'd be going with a skipper who'd done this trip over a dozen times before.
My Dad had an extensive library of sailing books, magazines and National Geographics which I devoured and spent many an hour day dreaming of sailing. Feeding into this habit, my uncle Wayne had a Paceship 29 that he'd take me out on once or twice a summer while I was in PEI and he'd let me helm the boat. Once I felt the calm serenity of sailing in reality, I knew for sure that this was something that I really wanted to do. While at university in Kingston (the so called sailing capital of Canada where we hosted the 1976 Olympics), I'd often rent small sailboats and sail around the large bay. I eventually bought a windsurfer and spent much time racing back and forth along the bay but I always knew I wanted a bigger boat. When ever we went on all-inclusive vacations in the Caribbean, I'd always spend as much time as I could on the resort's catamarans sailing around the beaches as fast I could go.
From my early days of reading Dad's books and magazines, I've wanted to someday own an Amel (French made dedicated cruising boat). They always advertised in Cruising World and it seemed to me to be the right boat. Henri Amel was the Nomme de Guerre of a French resistance fighter during WW2 who after the war got involved in the early design and construction of fibreglass cruising boats. They are known to be large (46-64') ketches (two masts, the rear one, shorter and in front of the rudder) that are purpose built and meant for a husband and wife to easily sail in the heaviest of waters with enough automation to ensure safe passages. The idea behind the ketch rig was to divide the sail area amongst the two masts making each sail smaller and easier to handle while designing the boat to go downwind in the Tradewinds without effort. They were very early on the automation of sail handling with electric roller furling Genoa, mainsail and mizzen (aft main sail) and electric winches. The cabin top was joined at the factory to the hull in one piece and the boats come with 7 individual water-tight cabins ensuring that as long as two remained dry, the boat would still float. They were decades ahead of their time and while a bit unconventional, everything was done to reduce maintenance (such as fake teak decks) and increase redundancy. A boat after my own heart. Unfortunately, they are true ocean going boats and not really fit for even our Great Lakes so while I'd seen them in magazines and on youtube, I'd never seen one in person.
It took me another 20 years but I eventually bought my own sailboat, a Paceship Northwind 29, very similar to my uncle's (less cabin but more cockpit - better for day sailing in Lake Simcoe where I kept it),
and learned to sail it around Lake Simcoe and took it up to Georgian Bay with my kids on many a week long voyage, dropping and raising the mast each way to make the transit of the Severn Canal.
It wasn't much of a boat, it needed lots of work, but I added roller furling sails to it along with significant electronics (GPS, Autopilot, Depth, Speed, Temperature, Wind Speed/Direction) so that I could take it into the 30,000 more or less single handed (well me with 4-5 young kids). My youngest son, Shawn, learned to walk on the sailboat and I credit it with giving him his phenomenal sense of balance. and learned to sail it around Lake Simcoe and took it up to Georgian Bay with my kids on many a week long voyage, dropping and raising the mast each way to make the transit of the Severn Canal.
A busy work schedule and our year-long sabbatical caused me to take the boat out of our local Hawkestone Yacht Club and put it on the hard north of Orillia where it languished, often thought about but never used (or visited), for 8 long years. When I was given my retirement package this spring, the very first thing I wanted to do was put her back in the water and spend the summer sailing her around Georgian Bay.
I had a few very good days and nights sailing into some of my favourite anchorages and discovering new ones and rekindled my joy of sailing once again. Unfortunately the boat is not yet reliable and I have to pull the engine to fix the transmission which is somehow taking in water and causing the clutch to slip which makes getting in and out of my slip somewhat problematic (I actually sailed it into the marina and docked it by myself one day when I couldn't get the engine going - because the starter had filled with oily water from the transmission it turned out). I've pulled the boat and will entirely rebuild the engine and transmission over the winter.
As part of my retirement, I've been dreaming about getting a much larger boat (the 53' Amel Super Maramu that I've always dreamed of) and doing some cruising outside of Ontario in warmer waters during our winters. My ever practical wife, Jen, suggested to me that perhaps I should volunteer on the type of boat I'm interested in and actually do an offshore passage to ensure that "my dream" matched the reality before making the big leap (i.e. "Would I actually LIKE doing offshore passages in a small sailboat and could I actually handle it?"). This was a brilliant idea, and while I'm astonished that it never occurred to me to do this before, I began to contact Amel owners on their very helpful forum which they use to ask/answer questions on the boat type. I got three responses from boats on the east coast of the US that were contemplating passages south this fall to the Caribbean. The first, out of Huntington NY, was able to secure enough crew from his usual crew mates so didn't work out. The second was already in the Caribbean and offered me to do a long passage next spring from Panama to the Marquesas (through the Galapagos) but really wanted a couple and offered for Jen and I to do some cruising with them this winter in the Caribbean.
The third was from a retired Internist/Anesthesiologist who wanted to take his boat from St. Michael's Maryland (in the Chesapeake Bay) down to Florida so that he and his girlfriend could cruise on this this winter in the Caribbean. This seemed ideal as it allowed me to sail in some of the roughest waters but not too far from shore so that we couldn't duck in if we saw a big storm coming and I'd be going with a skipper who'd done this trip over a dozen times before.
Due to bad experiences he'd had with crew before, and my desire to ensure the boat was safe before committing, we agreed to meet in St. Michaels for a day about a month in advance of the planned trip to ensure that we both thought it was still a good idea. I drove down and spent the day with him on Kristy and immediately felt that this was the right Captain, the right boat and that I'd be lucky if he invited me to crew with him. Just as I was dropping him off at the marina where his truck was, he asked if I would join him on his trip south around October 15th. I was delighted to and drove home on cloud 9.
Over the next month, we finalized our plans such that I would fly down to Dulles Airport on October 11th where he and his other crew member (coincidentally another IBM retiree - from North Carolina) would pick me up and we'd spend two days getting the boat ready and provisioning and planned to leave on Friday the 13th for points south depending upon the weather.
Over the next month, we finalized our plans such that I would fly down to Dulles Airport on October 11th where he and his other crew member (coincidentally another IBM retiree - from North Carolina) would pick me up and we'd spend two days getting the boat ready and provisioning and planned to leave on Friday the 13th for points south depending upon the weather.
We had booked off enough time (until October 27th) to ensure that we weren't pressured by the weather and have an uneventful passage. His caution, obvious detail in boat maintenance and extensive offshore experience did a lot to reassure me that I'd made the right choice, both with the boat but also in choosing a Captain that I could follow and learn from. I spent that month watching the weather very closely (three hurricanes hitting the continental US for the first time in more than a decade) and planning for what I'd need. I finished off my Level V Captain's certificate with NauticEd, an online education school that grants certificates recognized by all of the world's charter and insurance companies, in order to ensure that I knew everything that I could about heavy water sailing, offshore navigation and even mooring and docking large sailboats with bow thrusters. October 11th came quickly.
Comments
Post a Comment