We purchased our first digital camera, a Canon PowerShot Pro90 IS, in 2002. Many of our pictures are taken from a boat, with the subject often at a distance. So we wanted a long lens to successfully get those distant shots. Since light conditions in the Pacific Northwest can be poor, and we'd often be using a long lens, image stabilization could make the difference between an interesting picture and a missed shot. We decided against an SLR for a couple of reasons: a good image-stabilized SLR lens was expensive back then, on the order of $2,500, and the complete camera packages were heavy and bulky. For our use, we wanted a reasonably compact, lightweight package that was easy to use, carry and stow. A minimal SLR setup, with a body and two lenses, is a fair bit of equipment to carry around. Also, since many interesting shots happen quickly, we might lose them because we didn't have the right lens on for the shot. The early SLRs had an additional disadvantage of not being able to shoot movies. The PowerShot cost about $1,000, was image-stabilized, could record movies, and had a wide zoom range from 37 to 370mm. With an inexpensive camera, we could afford to upgrade it every few years as technology improved, or if we damaged it. Although the PowerShot picture quality wouldn't be as good as an SLR, this seemed like the right way to go for our usage pattern.

Another problem with an expensive SLR camera is that losing or damaging one is a pretty significant financial loss. We frequently take pictures in extreme conditions, in pouring rain or in rough water while taking waves, and have damaged at least two cameras this way. For example, the wave pictured above was taken in a 9-foot dinghy in 40-knot winds off the northwest coast of Vancouver Island, and the one below was taken in the Broughton Archipelago during a winter snowstorm. And here is a video we shot of breaking ice into Princess Louisa Inlet during a winter visit. For the wave picture in particular, we would not have been comfortable taking camera equipment costing more than $4,000 out in those conditions (you might argue that we should not have been comfortable taking ourselves out there either). Ironically, we got a great picture almost because we didn't have good equipment.

 Over the years, capabilities have improved dramatically and prices have fallen. Here's the digital cameras we've owned:

• 2002: Canon PowerShot Pro90 IS, $975, 37-370mm, 2.6 MP
• 2004: Panasonic DMC-FZ10, $800, 35-420mm, 4 MP
• 2005: Panasonic DMC-FZ30, $650, 35-420mm, 8 MP
• 2009: Canon PowerShot SX20 IS, $400, 28-560mm, 12.1 MP
• 2012: Canon PowerShot SX40 HS, $400, 24-840mm, 12.1MP

In addition to lens and image stabilization, big improvements also have been made in quality and speed of electronic focus systems. Our current camera, aCanon PowerShot SX40 HS, is respectively fast, produces good pictures, and has an incredibly wide zoom range from 24-840mm. And at $400, if the camera is damaged by operating in extreme conditions, it’s not the end of the world.

One thing we’ve found valuable is a lens hood. This helps protect the lens, keeping rain and snow off when taking pictures, and, without putting the lens cap on, we can quickly stuff the camera inside a coat for protection from weather or bumping.

We revisited the SLR decision with the second camera, but since then haven't bothered, and have generally just upgraded every few years. You can see the improvements in picture sharpness, color quality and white balance in this collection of our best and favorite pictures taken over the past decade.

Sunday's snow mostly was gone by Monday, but we got another load later in the week. The weather system was difficult to forecast. Although the snowfall was less than the record originally anticipated, enough still fell to keep anyone off the roads who didn't need to be out. And we got an unusual freezing rain event. The combination knocked out power for many folks on the Eastside. The past few day's below-freezing temperatures have eased off now, and the snow is melting. But conditions still are pretty bad on many city streets, with power still out for a number of Eastside residents.

Below are a couple of images taken from our boat at Bell Harbor Marina. On the left someone is using a leaf blower to clear the ramp, and we actually had enough to warrant using a snow blower on the docks.

We had several inches piled on our decks. When building the boat, we added extra insulation above the overhead panels to improve heating efficiency for high-latitude cruising. Judging by the lack of snowmelt on our decks, given we keep the boat 72F inside, the insulation is working.

Novik from Skol checked out the snow for a bit. Spitfire left a few prints, but generally wasn't impressed.

The freezing rain coated our our rails in ice. The last time we remember seeing our deck rails frozen like that was several years back when saltwater froze on our rails and decks. After the freezing rain, the snow was like a hardshell candy: a solid crust on the outside, with soft and fluffy snow on the inside.

By Thursday, the snow path cleared on Wednesday was starting to fill in. The picture on the right below is taken along the old waterfront streetcar tracks across the road from the marina.

Lots of marina space. Even in the winter, it's unusual for the guest dock to be completely empty near the weekend.

Downtown Seattle was pretty quiet on Thursday. Some of the steeper roads were blocked for traffic. Many businesses were closed, and few cars or people were about. Pike Place Market was open, but unusually quiet, with a handful of vendors open and not many customers.

Snow is fairly rare in the Puget Sound, so a layer of the white stuff always is a treat. We'd spent the weekend in LaConner, where 2-3 inches of snow had fallen overnight, and left around 7 this morning for the run back to Seattle. The trip through Swinomish Channel was magical in the dark. With few people about that early, the snow was mostly undistrubed and lay thickly on the rails and every flat surface of the many boats tied off on either side of the waterway. The white blanket softened all the hard edges and reflected the faintest light. Even the most tired-looking vessel we passed looked shiny and new. In the shoreside houses beyond town, a few early risers were reading the morning paper with a fire burning in their hearths. Their house lights cast a welcoming, golden glow onto the white landscape. At the steep cliffs near the turn west, snow clung to the rocky walls and filled the trees. 

Some of the communites farther south had snow, but there wasn't much along the south end of Whidbey Island, so we weren't expecting any snow in Seattle.

On VHF, we could hear Vessel Traffic talking about restricted visibility in Elliott Bay. It was snowing fairly hard as we approached, we couldn't see the other side of the bay. The storm lifted as we neared downtown, and West Seattle appeared, presumably with a fresh coating of snow.

And an inch or two had fallen at Bell Harbor. The classic wooden sailboat Skol looked wonderful with a layer of white.

One upside to winter's shorter days is the nighttime lights. Whether from a passing ship, a moored boat, or a nearby house, we enjoy being snug inside with a view to lights twinkling in the distance. The show gets even better during the Christmas season, when colorful holiday light displays are put on afloat and ashore. Much of the time we spent in Barkley Sound over Christmas was away from any signs of civilization, and the nights were pitch black. We didn't see much in the way of winter light displays until arriving in the Gulf Islands.

Here's our log from the Sidney to Port Madison, or you can display them on the live map view.

1/1/12: Sunrise over Olympics Happy New Year. The winds were still blowing from the east as we left Sidney Spit, and predicted to hit gale force this afternoon. We'd left Effingham at exactly the right time. Yesterday the winds at La Perouse bank were blowing 13 at 7am and were up to 21 by noon. By mid-afternoon the winds were blowing in the high 20s, gusting into the mid 30's, and were still at that speed this morning.

1/1/12: Tsehum Harbor Public Wharf Fishing fleet on the Tsehum Harbor Public Wharf. We took a tour around Van Isle Marina along the south side of Tsehum Harbor. The place was full of Nordhavns--we saw two 62s, three 55s, a 47 and several 40s.

1/1/12: S/V Kestral S/V Kestral heading out for a rum race.

1/1/12: Close quarters Spitfire looking nervous as we turn around in the marina. He's not big on close quarters.

1/1/12: Abandoned cabin Abandoned cabin on Harlock Islet.

1/1/12: Pocket tug Pocket tug in Page Passage.

1/1/12: Lewis Bay We're anchored in Lewis Bay, on the northwest end of Coal Island, with a view to the ferries at Swartz Bay. The Coastal Celebration and the Mayne Queen already were at the dock when we dropped hook, and the Spirit of Vancouver Island and the Skeena Queen arrived shortly after. Winter allows us different choiced in anchorages than the summer, partly due to less crowds but also due to prevailing winds. Lewis Bay would not be a great summer anchorage with a northwest wind blowing, but we've got gale force winter southerlies in the forecast and Lewis Bay is well-sheltered from that direction.

1/1/12: Dockside Grill We ran the dinghy to Tsehum Harbor for a quick of the area and to see if the Dockside Grill was open. It was closed for New Year's Day. Bummer--their view looked awesome.

1/1/12: Marina beacon This beacon is in the middle of one of the fairways at Van Isle Marina. And they're serious--a big rock is underneath that post.

1/2/12: Sunrise Sunrise over the head of Lewis Bay.

1/2/12: Ferry terminal We love having a view to a ferry run, and being able to see the terminal was even better. Winter is a great time for ferry watching--the late dawn and early dusk means the ferries are lit up more often than in summer. From the anchorage we also could see several large cargo ships way down Satellite Channel towards Cowichan, and lights on the hills on the southern tip of of Saltspring Island.

1/2/12: Spirit of VI Spirit of Vancouver Island off Fir Cone Point, at the northern tip of Cole Island. Lewis Bay turned out to be an excellent anchorage. We were a little concerned that the ferry wakes might be a problem, but no wakes of any note came through the entire time we were there, even when the big Spirit-class ferries came booming through.

1/2/12: Coastal Celebration The Coastal Celebration is the newest BC Ferry. It sailed from Germany through the Panama Canal, arriving in June of 2008. The bridge is unusually low in the bow compared to the other ships of that size.

1/2/12: Coast Guard Canadian Coast Guard ships moored in Patricia Bay. The Institute of Ocean Sciences is in the background.

1/2/12: Brentwood Bay We're anchored off another ferry dock--this one a lot smaller than the last though. The previous time we were in the area, the temperature was below freezing for days. Todd Inlet to our south was completely iced in. Brentwood Bay is another good Christmas anchorage-- houses pack the shores, many with holiday lights.

1/2/12: S/V Cetacea S/V Cetacea at anchor nearby in Brentwood Bay. Everthing was painted black, even the kayaks.

1/2/12: The Sea Lion The century-old tug Sea Lion on the docks at Brentwood Bay. We've seen this boat as far north as the Nakwakto Rapids, working as a floating resort, and more recently moored at the Vancouver Maritime Museum on False Creek.

1/2/12: Public dock Looking west across the public dock into Brentwood Bay.

1/2/12: Brentwood Bay Resort We had an excellent lunch at the pub in the fabulous glass and cedar Brentwood Bay Resort.

1/3/12: Ganges Harbour Ganges is a busy water aerodrome. The planes run fairly close to the anchored boats--it's a pretty exciting show. The harbor is open to the south, and big southerly blows will generate waves. But the waves tend to be less than a foot or so and not uncomfortable. We love anchoring here in the winter--crowds are less and the shores all around twinkle with light after dark.

1/3/12: Cape Kuper Cape-class 47' motor lifeboat Cape Kuper heads out from its base in Ganges.

1/4/12: School bus Water taxi The Graduate arrives into Ganges. While we watched from Shipstones pub last night, several dozen kids boarded this boat, Scolarship and Ganges Hawk. The vessels returned back to Ganges a few hours later. They headed out again this morning and all returned about the same time.

1/4/12: Seahorse Seahorse moored behind us, with the Coast Guard station in the background.

1/4/12: Ducks Finally got our ducks all in a row. :)

1/5/12: Sunrise Sunrise looking south through Swanson Channel. We ended up spending an extra night in Ganges, just catching up on various projects, watching the floatplanes and hitting each of the two waterfront pubs for dinner.

1/5/12: Rainbow Rainbow over Mount Tuam, Saltspring Island.

1/5/12: Wind in Haro Strait A gale warning was in effect for the Strait of Juan de Fuca, east entrance. In Haro Strait the winds were gusting to nearly 40 knots from the southwest. We were expecting to take real pounding when we rounded Gonzales Pt along the southern tip of Vancouver Island. But the gale warning had ended and winds had calmed by the time we got there, and the seas were smooth.

1/5/12: Esquimalt Harbor HMCS Algonquin and HMCS Regina just inside the entrance to Esquimalt Harbour, with HMCS Protecteur behind. Canadian Forces Base (CFB) Esquimalt covers 10,300 acres on both sides of Esquimalt Harbor and employs some 4,000 military and 2,000 civilian personnel. Their primary misson is to support Canada's Pacific Fleet. Esquimalt is the first Secret Coast destination we've visited in the 52. Other than the Desolation Sound trip last Christmas, we've not been up the Inside Passage beyond the Gulf Islands. Both summer Alaska trips were offshore.

1/5/12: Navy ships HMCS Saskatoon and HMCS Brandon moored deep inside the harbor. Alongside likely are HMCS Whitehorse and HMCS Yellowknife.

1/5/12: Coastal Inspiration BC Ferry Coastal Inspiration moored alongside the Esquimalt Graving Dock. The 1,200' dry dock is the largest on the Pacific coast and can handle som 90% of the world's ships.

1/5/12: Six Mile House Pints of Kilkenny at Six Mile House. In the past we landed below the pub and climbed up through their garden. They've put a fence up, however, so we couldn't go up that way. We instead landed under the bridge and climbed up to the Parsons Bridge Park path and then walked up to the road.

1/6/12: Dawn Dawn looking from the anchorage toward Dockyard, CFB Esquimalt's main facility. The Olympic Mountains are in the distance. Some of the base lights still are visible, but nothing compared to the display at night. One of Esquimalt Harbor's many attractions, especially in the winter, is the nighttime view of the brightly-lit base.

1/6/12: Sir Wilfred Laurier CCGS Sir Wilfred Laurier, a light icebreaker, arriving in Esquimalt Harbor to tend the buoy at the entrance.

1/6/12: Breakwater Sunrise over the Ogden Point breakwater.

1/6/12: Float plane Float plan readying for takeoff in the inner habor.

1/6/12: Victoria Inner Harbour The Causeway floats usually are near empty in the winter, but were packed when we arrived on Friday morning. The Victoria Harbor Authority now allows winter moorage there, so most of the boats were somewhat permanent.

1/6/12: Coho The Coho rounding Laurel Point on arrival into Victoria. It sure looks like a tight squeeze for a ship that size.

1/6/12: Bastion Square Historic Bastion Square, packed with tourists in the summer, is pretty quiet today.

1/6/12: Murchie's We had an excellent breakfast at Murchie's, and spent the day in Victoria touring around and visiting with family. And, of course, we managed to fit a pub stop in there too.

1/7/12: Port Madison Paul Johansen at its mooring in Port Madison. We left Victoria about 5am this morning, and arrived here at 2pm. We only ever to go Port Madison in the winter--its too crowded other times. The harbor is an excellent winter anchorage: snug with good wind protection, and in the early evening the lights from the houses on the hills above cast a warm glow.

A storm warning was in effect, with winds expected to reach 40-50 knots in the afternoon. More systems were on the way. The only obvious weather break coming up in the next few days was a several-hour window starting sometime after midnight, when winds would be 15 knots or less. We weren't pressed for time yet, so had no reason to risk rough seas. But we did want to take advantage of the window if conditions looked good. We also wanted to avoid entering an anchorage in the dark. Since the run would be 10-12 hours, and we only had 7-8 hours of daylight, we'd have to leave or arrive in the dark, or both. If we have to navigate an anchorage at night, we'd rather leave from one that we've recently entered and are familiar with. Leaving between midnight and 2am would allow us to arrive well before dusk.

Here's our log from the Ucluelet to Sidney, or you can display them on the live map view.

12/29/11: Red sky at morning ... Last night we recorded winds over 30-knots, but the seas are calm this morning. We've got another storm warning in effect though: Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky at morning, sailor take warning.

12/29/11: Seal show A seal put on an energetic show just off the back deck. It leapt, jumped and splashed for ages.

12/29/11: Whiskey Dock We tied off at a public dock, Whiskey Dock, to walk through town. A dramatic cedar commercial complex, overlooking the waterfront, is nearing completion in the background.

12/29/11: Ucluelet Aquarium Part of that new complex is the Ucluelet Aquarium.

12/29/11: Driftwood flower Near the north end of town, someone has built amazing varnished driftwood sculptures. This flower stands perhaps 10' of the ground and is at least 5' in diameter.

12/29/11: Driftwood octopus Another spectacular sculpture, this one of an octopus.

12/29/11: Drill bit art At the foot of a nearby driveway, three drill bits were mounted on each entry post. Ucluelet is full of unusual creations like this.

12/29/11: Small Craft Harbor The Ucluelet Small Craft Harbor. We're anchored on the other side of the buildings in the background.

12/29/11: Cynamoka House We'd not had breakfast yet, and were hoping to find a nice coffee house. Cynamoka House and Guest Suites fit the bill.

12/29/11: Breakfast Great coffee in a bottomless cup and delicious fresh-baked muffins hit the spot.

12/29/11: Barometer falling The barometer fell 21 mb, from 1011 to 990, in the past 12 hours. Another big system is coming through.

12/29/11: Big winds The winds were strong when we arrived, but really are building now. You can see the calm weather that we had this morning, sandwiched between big blows.

12/29/11: Boat movement at anchor The chart plotter track shows where the winds have been coming while we've been anchored here. We've spent little time drifting around the anchor and most of the time blown hard to the northwest and southeast.

12/30/11: Sea lions Sea lions seem to have taken over one of the Ucluelet docks. Perhaps thirty lounged there each time we passed, and we could hear them barking as we walked through town yesterday.

12/30/11: Exploding wave Wave exploding against the shore at the Crow Islets. The barometer bottomed out at 990 last night, but still is at 992 this morning. A gale warning is in effect, with winds expected to be northwest 35 to 45. The winds are in the high 20s now with gusts into the 30s.

12/30/11: Surf Surf crashing against Page Island, with wind blowing the wavetops off.

12/30/11: Wind-streaked waves Wind-streaked waves as we head into Peacock Channel. We'll have a brief weather window early tomorrow morning, with winds dropping to 15 knots sometime after midnight, but rising to 20-25 tomorrow morning and 30-40 tomorrow afternoon with more systems on the way later in the week. We thought hard about leaving then. But the window just seemed too small, and we weren't pressed for time yet, so we had no reason to risk rough seas.

12/30/11: Ruins of Ecoole In the 1920s and 1930s, Ecoole was a BC Packers Pilchard Reduction plant with a small supporting settlement. The site was abandoned in the 1940s and this is pretty much all that is left. Because the Vancouver Island's west coast was populated so early and so heavily, it also suffered through many abandoned enterprises and communities as their resources waned or business moved elsewhere. Ruins are common in Barkley Sound and farther up the island's west coast, much more than at other places along the BC shoreline.

12/30/11: Floathomes, Rainy Bay We're considering a run to Port Alberni tomorrow--while winds have been fierce throughout Barkley Sound, the highest wind speed in Port Alberni over the past 24 hours was 4 knots. Big outflow winds were blowing down-inlet when the weather was cold a week or so back, but the winter storms don't seem to reach there. The cove at the head of Rainy Bay was a potential anchorage for the night With a string of a dozen or more floathomes along the west shore, however, and boats coming and going, it didn't feel private enough.

12/30/11: Canadian flag A Canadian flag is painted high on the cliff near the cut to Useless Bay. The inscription with it reads "1965 Whitehurst". We're not sure what this refers to--perhaps a tug name?

12/30/11: Rainy Bay We considered anchoring in the northeast portion of Rainy Bay, but it felt pretty exposed and also not very private. Several small boats were about and a couple of fair-sized houses were ashore.

12/30/11: Effingham Bay We're back at Effingham Bay. The weather forecast worsened to storm warning 40-50 knots for this afternoon, but the weather window has increased. Winds are expected to drop to 15 before tomorrow morning, and instead of rising to 20-25 tomorrow morning, they'll rise to 20 knots late tomorrow morning. We'll keep an eye on the weather and if conditions look good, we'll head out sometime early tomorrow morning.

12/30/11: Barometer back up Conditions aren't good yet though--the barometer was 992 when we left Ucluelet this morning and by 5pm was 1009. Gusts to nearly 50 knots in Imperial Eagle Channel heeled the boat over 4 degrees as we approached Effingham Island. 20-30-knot southwest winds are blowing through the anchorage, bringing 1-3' waves. The boat is pulled back on the anchor a long way from where we set, but isn't undulating much in the waves. With good holding, 8:1 scope on an all-chain rode, and tons of swing room, we're safe and comfortable inside.

12/31/11, 3:00am: Pachena Point We got up at midnight and checked the weather. Conditions definately were calming down out there. Winds were averaging 15 NW on the latest lighthouse weather reports. The seas were 10-12' on our beam coming out of Barkley Sound, but not really a problem. And once we turned towards Juan de Fuca Strait, they'd be behind us. Even better.

12/31/11, 7:30am: Juan de Fuca Strait We picked an excellent weather window. Seas now are near calm, with 10-20-knot winds on our sterm giving us a nice speed push. We'll be into the Victoria area by noon.

12/31/11, 10:15am: Olympic Mountains Snow-covered Olympic Mountains. We're making excellent time--with a push from the current and the wind behind us, we're doing almost 10 knots.

12/31/11: Race Rocks Conditions here can be wicked when wind blows against a several-knot current. But the waters are calm now.

12/31/11: Coho The Coho heading to Port Angeles from Victoria.

12/31/11: Pilot Pilot boat returning to the Victoria Pilot Station.

12/31/11: Golfing Golf with a view at the Victoria Golf Club.

12/31/11: Surf kayaker A half dozen kayakers were surfing the waves off Cadbora Point.

12/31/11, 2:00pm: Sidney Spit Smooth seas the rest of the way. We're anchored at Sidney Spit and will take the dinghy across to Sidney for lunch at the Rumrunner Pub overlooking Haro Strait.

12/31/11: New Year's Eve We found Gray Matter moored at Sidney and spent New Year's Eve with Mark Mohler, Christine Guo and friends. We had a cold dinghy ride back to Sidney Spit after--the winds had come up from the east and the water was quite choppy.

Previous log post for this trip: Christmas Cruise 2011: The Wild Pacific Coast

A southwesterly gale was well underway as we approached Ucluelet. 6-8' waves were rolling through and crashing into the shore on either side of us. The buoy in Carolina Channel, to our west, was disappearing completely behind the waves. The calm weathers we'd experienced early in the trip had given way to storm after storm. What better place to enjoy the weather than in Canada's storm-watching capitol? Ucluelet has built a thriving tourist industry based in giving visitors a chance to experience the west coast's fierce weather firsthand. We were eager to walk out to the Amphritite Point Lighthouse to view the storm in full force.

Here's our log from the Pinkerton Islands to Ucluelet, or you can display them on the live map view.

12/27/11: No rain, no wind The heavy rains we've had for the past two days finally have stopped, as has the wind. This is the view looking north from the anchorage.

12/27/11: Snow level The snow level has dropped since we arrived in the area. We didn't see any in snow on the foothills last week.

12/27/11: Pinkerton Islands The view west from our anchorage.

12/27/11: Dinghy tour The wonderfully complex islets of the Pinkerton Group are great dinghy and kayak territory. We've not been out in the dinghy for the past two day as it's been raining too much. Our general rule with winter boating is: "If it's not raining, get out there." We'll have plenty of time pinned inside the cabin to relax or do boat chores when the weather is bad.

12/27/11: Float home The Pinkerton Islands are outside the Pacific Rim National Park, and have a number of floathomes and cabins tucked away on and alongside the islands. Of the many floathomes we've seen on this trip, only a few have been occupied.

12/27/11: Walking on water This would be a bad time for a large wake to hit.

12/27/11: Private island This cabin was on an island all to itself.

12/27/11: Unusual current On an 11' high tide, we were able to work a ways up two creeks that empty into the Pinkerton Group from Vancouver Island. The surface current in this one was most unusual. The current was running perhaps a knot or so where we're stopped, and the direction kept changing back and forth, between inflow and outflow, in the space of minutes. We couldn't figure out what would cause that.

12/27/11: End of the road We probably had enough depth to go further up this second creek, but too many branches were in the way, and the rain had started up again. Time for lunch.

12/28/11: Newcombe Channel A gale warning is in effect for West Coast Vancouver Island south. Winds are expected to be 25-35 from the southwest with 4-meter seas. The wind already was blowing a steady 25-30 from the SW as we approached Ucluelet Inlet, and 6-8' waves were rolling through and crashing into the shore on either side of us. The buoy in Carolina Channel, to our west, was disappearing completley behind the waves. Newcombe Channel looks reasonbly wide on the chart, but felt pretty narrow with breakers all around. We've recently added an attitude gauge to our Maretron N2KView display. The video shows the boat's motion, with pitching up to 10 degrees, and also the wind speed.

On Christmas Day, the barometer fell nearly 20mb in 24 hours and Environment Canada was predicting big weather: Storm warning in effect for West Coast Vancouver Island South. Wind west 25 to 35 knots diminishing to northwest 15 to 25 early this evening then backing to southwest 15 to 25 late this evening. Wind increasing to south 25 to 35 before Monday morning and to 35 to 45 near noon Monday except 50 northwest of Estevan Point. Wind becoming southwest 30 to 40 Monday evening. We actually were looking forward to it--no storm-force winds have hit Barkley Sound since we've arrived, and we were curious what conditions would be like. The storm didn't turn out to be quite as fierce as predicted, but we did get some interesting barometer movement.

Here's our log from Snug Basin to Turtle Bay, or you can display them on the live map view.

12/23/11: Misty skies, Snug Basin A heavy rain shortly after dawn has given way to a calm, misty morning. The temperature is much warmer today than yesterday--in the high 40s up from the low 30s.

12/23/11: Entering Poett Nook The channel into Poett Nook looks tight, but is reasonably wide and deep.

12/23/11: Poett Nook We were considering anchoring at Poett Nook, but it wasn't very appealing. Aquaculture fills the east shore and a large marina and trailerpark is along the west shore. And the marina appeared open, with a boat at the fuel dock. Had we need gas for the dinghy, though, we likely could have filled there.

12/23/11: Robbers Passage We're anchored off the Port Alberni Yacht club outstation, all closed up for the winter.

12/23/11: Surf The anchorage is well protected, with barely-noticable swell, but we can see waves crashing against the outer shore to our northwest. Another southerly gale is predicted, so that view could become even more interesting.

12/23/11: Tzartus Island Abandoned house at the north end of Tzartus Island. It looks like it once was quite nice.

12/23/11: Shahowis Lodge The Lodge at Shahowis appears to have been in disuse for several years. The dock was a mess, and it was pretty overgrown. Sad to see.

12/23/11: Sea arch, Tzartus Island Small craft apparently go through this arch in calm conditions, but we didn't have those today.

12/23/11: Sea cave, Tzartus Island The exposed outer coasts in Barkley Sound are full of storm-created sea arches and caves like this one.

12/23/11: Port Alberni Yacht Club outstation The Port Alberni Yacht Club has carved wonderful trails into Fleming Island. The trails are as nice, or nicer, than most government-maintained parks. This one leads up to what they call the Crow's Nest.

12/23/11: Crow's Nest The view looking north from the Crow's Nest.

12/24/11: Imperial Channel Earlier this morning, we were seeing gusts into the low 40s, but the anchorage was still reasonably calm from a wave perspective. Outside in Imperial Channel, the winds were blowing steady 25-30 from the southeast. Surprising, as it's only blowing 15-20 at La Perouse Bank. Conditions weren't too bad though--the waves were perhaps 3-5' high.

12/24/11: Bamfield Coast Guard Station The Bamfield Coast Guard station also is home to the Rigid Hull Inflatable Operator Training (RHIOT) school. RHIOT operates only in the winter, when the weather is at its worst.  Students from all over North America attend, learning how to operate the craft in extremely rough seas, including handling capsizes. The title of a Pacific Yachting article written by one attendee pretty much sums it up: "Getting Bashed at Bamfield."

12/24/11: Air draft We last were at the head of Bamfield Inlet in the previous boat. With an air draft of 15.5', the 17m clearance under the wires between Burlo and Rance islands wouldn't have been much of a concern. At 30.5', the 52's air draft leaves plenty of room to pass under, but it still caught our attention.

12/24/11: Bamfield Inlet Rain is pouring, the winds are gusting into the 20s, and Dirona is shifting about in the anchorage. But we're securely set with plenty of swing room, and the boat is cozy and warm. We're loving it.

12/25/11: Christmas morning Merry Christmas.

12/25/11: Entering Grappler Inlet At the mouth of Grappler Inlet. This may look tight, but its nothing compared to where we're heading.

12/25/11: Narrows at Grappler Inlet Looking back through the marked channel we just passed through. The channel is narrow and shallow--charted depths are less than a meter in parts.

12/25/11: Grappler Inlet neck With 8.5' of tide, the depth was about 8' going through the drying entrance into the inner basin at the head of Grappler Inlet. The charts are accurate and the path well-marked, but it's pretty tight. We crept through the channel with a careful bow watch. The current was carrying us in, so we used as much reverse as forward to keep our speed down to a half knot.

12/25/11: Storm coming The barometer has fallen nearly 20mb in 24 hours and the Environment Canada is predicting big weather: Storm warning in effect. Wind west 25 to 35 knots diminishing to northwest 15 to 25 early this evening then backing to southwest 15 to 25 late this evening. Wind increasing to south 25 to 35 before Monday morning and to 35 to 45 near noon Monday except 50 northwest of Estevan Point. Wind becoming southwest 30 to 40 Monday evening. We're actually kind of looking forward to it--no storm-force winds have hit Barkley Sound since we've arrived, ane we're curious what conditions will be like.

12/25/11: Grappler Inlet head The anchorage in the basin at the head of Grappler Inlet is quite scenic. We were expecting that it might be built up like the outer basin. But only a few houses are ashore here, concentrated together at one end, and nobody seems to be about. Likely the combination of a restricted entry and no apparent road makes building here less appealing.

12/26/11: Barometer "v" The barometer bottomed out at 1001 yesterday, then shot back up to 1020 again. Near the bottom of the "v", the wind was blowing 35 knots at La Perouse Bank, with gusts near 40. We had gusts up to 37 in Grappler Inlet, but the average was around 15. Conditions were reasonable when we crossed Imperial Eagle Channel early this afternoon. The wind was blowing 15, gusting 20, with a swell heigh of 6-8' while at La Perouse Bank, the winds were S 21 gusting 26, with a wave height of 3.2m.

12/26/11: Turtle Bay The more common entry is from the north, but the east entry appeared straigtforward and it was. We saw min 38' on a 12' tide.

12/27/11: After the storm The winds blew last night, but not as fiercely as predicted. We recorded speeds in the high twenties with gusts into the thirties. La Perouse Bank had the same, and Estevan Point was a little worse, with gusts to 39 knots.

The first time we encountered surface ice on saltwater was back in 2002, on a winter trip to Desolation Sound and Princess Louisa Inlet. We had to break ice to reach Chatterbox Falls. We've since seen ice on saltwater many times on our winter cruises, from as far north as Blunden Harbor to the south Puget Sound. And now, in Barkley Sound as well. With freezing temperatures the past two days, we've had to break ice to reach our anchorages.

Here's our log from Julia Passage to Snug Basin, or you can display them on the live map view.

12/21/11: Julia Passage entrance The south entrance to Julia Passage looks tricky on the chart, but we found it relatively straightforward going slowly with a careful bow watch. On an 11' tide, we had a minimum of 15' going through.

12/21/11: Surface ice, Julia Passage A thin sheet of ice covered the surface in the basin inside Julia Passage. We left a path through it, reminscent of our breaking ice into Princess Louisa Inlet years back.

12/21/11: Float homes, Julia Passage We've never stopped at Julia Passage before. With perhaps twenty floathomes ringing the channel, summers here would be much too busy. But this time of year, wintering seabirds are our only neighbours.

12/21/11: Sunset, Julia Passage Sechart Channel aglow in the sunset, looking south from our anchorage in Julia Passage.

12/22/11: Frost, Julia Passage Another cold and frosty, but clear and beautiful morning. So far we've had just amazing weather.

12/22/11: Sunrise Sunrise over the Somerset Range.

12/22/11: MV Frances Barkley The MV Frances Barkely, a working packet freighter, en route from Uchucklesit Inlet.

12/22/11: Snug Basin We're anchored in 70', with hills all around and a deep, blue sky above. We had to break through surface ice again, perhaps 1/8" thick. As we drifted about once set, we could hear the ice breaking and crackling against the hull.

12/22/11: Creek from Henderson Lake The creek draining Henderson Lake reaches Uchucklesit Inlet through a narrow channel with overhanging cliffs. This picture is looking back through the entry after we've come through. It felt like a mini version of the Marble River further north. Beyond, the channel opens into a small lake-like basin, where shallows on a 9' tide blocked further progress.

12/22/11: Frost-covered logs Looking down-inlet over frost-covered logs.

12/22/11: Dozer tugs Logging is active on both sides of the inlet. When we arrived these dozers were working a big boom from the north shore to the south.

12/22/11: Sunken barge About 30' of this barge was showing in 75' of water, so it must be a good 100' long. The sinking appeared recent, judging by the sealife still on the hull. We gave it a wide berth--we wouldn't want to be nearby if it fell.

12/22/11: Launching logs It’s an exciting show when logs are transferred from shore to water. Logs are stacked in bundle cradles, two U-shaped holders that stand perpendicular to the shoreline. When the bundle is complete, the logs are wrapped with wire. Then the water-side arms of the cradle are released, and the bundled logs slide into the water with a tremendous splash.

12/22/11: Log dump Preparing the next load. The outer arms, lying flat against the log on the ground, will pop up to create the U-shaped holder when the logs fall into place.

12/22/11: Shipwreck This wood fishing vessel was hard aground along the northwest shore. The boat is big and heavy, so that must have taken some wind.

12/22/11: Surface ice Surface ice stranded by the falling tide.

12/22/11: At anchor, Snug Basin Looking across the surface ice to Dirona at anchor. A gale warning is in effect for the southwest coast of Vancouver Island. The winds currently are 20-30 knots at La Perouse Bank, but calm here.

Winter boating has its challenges, but one of the many rewards are the waterfalls. Flows that might be non-existent or just a trickle in summer gush and roar in winter. Teakearn Arm in Desolation Sound Marine Park is a good example. In the summer one waterfall tumbles lazily over the edge from Cassell Lake. In the winter, two waterfalls pour over the side, filling the basin with spray. The falls at Lucky Creek in Pipestem Inlet are no exception. Summer's gentle flow is a deluge in the winter.

Here's our log from Jarvis Lagoon to Pipestem Inlet, or you can display them on the live map view.

12/19/11: Jarvis Lagoon entry The entry to Jarvis Lagoon is shallow and narrow. We entered on a 9' tide. Depths on the way through were mostly in the 15'-20' range, but we needed a careful bow watch to find them. Fortunately we could see a good 20' down. One of winter boating's many perks is clearer water for this kind of navigation.

12/19/11: Jarvis Lagoon anchorage And this is the reward for that challenging entry--a near landlocked cove where barely a ruffle of wind disturbs the surface.

12/19/11: Jarvis Lagoon by dinghy Out for a dinghy tour. The flotation suits are among our favourite winter boating gear. The suits are similar to ski jumpsuits, but with built-in flotation and extra insulation. We use Mustang 2175s, which are standard issue with the Coast Guard on both sides of the border. We can toss these on over light clothing, add a pair of gloves and perhaps some ear warmers and be instantly warm in the coldest weather.

12/19/11: Nettles Island The Pacific Rim National Park Reserve Warden Station, all closed up for the winter.

12/20/11: Moonrise, Jarvis Lagoon Yesterday's heavy rain clouds are gone, and the sky now is a deep, clear blue. Environment Canada is predicting 35-45-knot winds in two days, but right now the wind is near zero.

12/20/11: Pipestem Inlet anchorage Tucked away behind Refuge Island. Winds are predicted to blow NW 25-30 tonight, so we'll see what we get here.

12/20/11: Lucky Creek falls The falls at Lucky Creek gush out in the winter, compared to summer's gentler flow.

12/20/11: Navigating Lucky Creek We arrived at the creek on a 7' falling tide and barely had depth to get in and out. The channel was less than 2' deep in places, and we needed a dinghy bow watch to find a workable route.

12/20/11: Picnic lunch, Pipestem Inlet A picnic lunch overlooking the anchorage with a view up Pipestem Inlet. With sunshine, no wind, and the temperature around 50F, we were warm enough just wearing light jackets.

12/21/11: Frost at Pipestem Inlet Brrr. It's 33F and frosty this morning. The winds blew NW 25-30 last night at La Perouse Bank, but we barely saw 15.

We first planned a Christmas cruise to Barkley Sound in the fall of 2003. That November, however, we attended a presentation by Cliff Mass on
the difficulties of forecasting northwest weather. Mass gave several examples of major storms that had, with little warning, swept up the
Pacific Coast and pounded Barkley Sound with storm and hurricane force winds. We went to the Broughtons that winter instead. Several times since
we've considered a winter cruise to Barkley Sound, but each time we've remembered that presentation and those storms. This year we finally
made the trip. After passing Barkley Sound en-route between Seattle and Alaska this summer and the last, we really wanted to return. And, we
realized, it's just not that far. The longest leg, 70 miles between Sooke Harbor and the sound, is only a ten-hour journey. We just needed
to be patient and wait for a good weather window.

Here's our log from Seattle to our first Barkley Sound stop, in Effingham Bay. We'll be making live updates to the map view as we go.

12/17/11, 10:20am: Off Sooke Inlet Two tired travellers. James had the helm for six hours between Skunk Bay and Oak Bay, and Spitfire, well, he just sleeps a lot.

12/18/11, 9:00am: Effingham Bay The storm is past, the barometer is back on the rise and the sun is shining. This is the view looking north from the anchorage. We slept so soundly last night that we didn't wake when the generator auto-started early this morning.

12/18/11, 1:15pm: Effingham Bay With sunshine, 49F and a little help from the diesel furnace (we have an outlet plumbed outside under the teak table), we just had to eat outside. The Seahawks game will have to wait.

12/18/11, 2:30pm: Effingham Bay Sea arch on the southwest side of Effingham Island. We circumnaviged the island by dinghy, partly retracing our route in last night. Although the seas have calmed considerably since yesterday, breaking waves still surge and gush through the passage. We actually went through the arch a few years ago, but conditions were too rough today.

12/19/11, 8:30am: Leaving Effingham Bay Enjoying the sunrise as we leave the anchorage.

12/19/11, 8:30am: Sunrise over Effingham Bay The winter sun isn't at the right angle for one of Effingham Bay's fabulous sunsets, but the sunrise made up for it.

On our Prince William Sound trip this summer, we started keeping a live, map-based travel log. We posted updates several times a day during the offshore run there and back, giving our location, sea conditions etc. And we made daily updates while cruising throughout Prince William Sound. Several people commented that the updates were useful, so we've kept them up since returning from the trip.

Over the past few weeks, we've combined the web and blog home pages into a single landing page, and integrated the map log into the page banner. Now when you visit the site, you'll see a banner across the top with our current and recent locations:

The map shows our current location highlighted in red with an associated picture and text on the right. Right of the map is a list of our recent locations. Clicking on an entry in the location list, or on a place mark on the map, will pan the map to that location and update the picture and text:

The page banner map shows only the first few entries in the travel log. Clicking on either "Larger" under the map or "More..." under the location list jumps to a full-paged map showing all the recent locations:

Clicking on an entry in the location list, or a place mark on this map, will pan the map to that location and show an information window with that entry's associated picture and text.

We will periodically post to the blog a digest of these recent locations for our RSS readers.

Last week we gave a presentation on our trip to Prince William Soundto the Seattle Sail and Power Squadron. They meet on the third floor of the Queen City Yacht Club, with a wonderful view across Portage Bay. We had a great time socializing with the group and touring the grounds. For our talk, we described our trip pre-trip preparation, experiences on the offshore run, and highlights of cruising Prince William Sound.

The slides are posted here. We’ll also be presenting on this topic at the Seattle Boat Show in January. The final schedule hasn’t yet been announced, but we’re slotted for January 28th or 29th. Below are our answer to a few questions from the audience on topics we didn't specifically cover in the talk.

What other failures did we have? In the presentation, we mentioned that a sea blubber jellyfish had plugged the generator raw-water strainer and destroyed the impeller. We replaced it, and immediately sucked in anther jellyfish, but this time the impeller wasn't damaged, and we had no further issues. The only other major failure we had was the wing engine. We use it to run our hydraulic thrusters and windlass, and tried to start it as we were approaching the first anchorage after the offshore run. The engine wouldn't start--turns out it was hydro-locked from having water forced down the raw-water exhaust outlet in the rough water. We cleared the engine, changed the oil twice and then ran it under load at anchor to get it good at hot. We got the water out quickly and the wing is undamaged. The most obvious way to avoid this problem is to close the seacock. Unfortunately, PAE doesn’t install a seacock on the generator or wing engine exhaust so that isn’t possible. Believing a seacock is a required safety feature, we have subsequently installed one. However, we like the wing to be available quickly in all conditions, so we prefer not to close the seacock. We instead installed a very large check valve in the exhaust, just inside the seacock, to prevent water inrush and wave action from driving water up the exhaust and into the engine. We believe this one is solved, but won’t know for sure until we experience difficult weather conditions.

How tired were we when we arrived? We were in surprisingly good shape, despite the rough weather. On arriving at that first anchorage and finally stopping, we had no trouble taking on the wing engine issue, and had a nice relaxing dinner afterwards. We did sleep well that night though. This is something we've been finding with the Nordhavn: because travelling is so comfortable, we actually can go further in this boat in a given period of time, both multi-day and local trips, than we could in the previous boat, even though the Nordhavn's top speed is much less. Running faster was more tiring on the previous boat. We'd have to be much more focused at the helm at the higher speeds, and the noise and vibration level, although not particularly bad, were significantly higher.

Were there marked trails? It varied. In some places, such as at Cascade Bay, the trail above the waterfall was well-trod and easy to follow. In others, we could pick our way through open scrub in the general direction of our destination. Because the winter weather is so harsh in Alaska, forests don't grow as thick as we're use to in BC. The many bluffs and open fields in the hills around the anchorages in Prince William Sound provided plenty of opportunities for easy hiking with a view.

What was the average temperature? Low-fifties near the glaciers, and low sixties elsewhere. Several days though, the temperature was into the seventies and was warm enough for us to eat lunch on deck in T-shirts.

How did we arrive at our watchkeeping system?Beth Leonard and the Dashews have good coverage on the topic of two-crew watchkeeping systems. People frequently started at formal two-hour shifts for a 24-hour period, but then evolved to four-hour shifts, only at night, as they gained experience. We figured if we were going to evolve to four hours, we might as well start there. Most couples also seemed to have the person with the most helm experience do the majority of the night shifts. So for the trip to SE Alaska last year, we started out doing formal four-hour shifts at night, with James taking the 8pm-midnight and 4am-8am shifts, and me taking the midnight-4am shift. Days were to be more informal, with James sleeping once or twice during the day. We learned, however, that James doesn't sleep well during the day, and wasn't getting enough sleep. I, on the other hand, can sleep pretty much any time. So we swapped to me taking the first and last night shift, and James doing the middle shift. We found the 4-hour shifts slightly long so switched to 3 hours before settling on 3 ½ hours. I take the 8pm-11:30pm and 3:00am-6:30am shifts, and James takes 11:30pm-3:00am.

We keep our boat ready to sail at all times, with drawers all latched and loose items stowed. When we're heading out for the weekend, we just need to start the engines and go. Before we lived aboard at Bell Harbor Marina, we could arrive at our Elliott Bay Marina slip on a Friday night after work and cast off the lines in under five minutes. This included the time spent unloading and returning two dock carts. Our next-door slip neighbors, Paul and Pam Lewis on Nordhavn 46 Gryphon, would pretend to time us and jokingly let us know if we were slowing down.

We've kept the same practice since moving aboard. We'll do more preparation, however, when we're heading out on a run where we might see bigger seas, such as the offshore run to SE Alaska or Prince William Sound.

To prevent a window blow-out should we take a large wave or a knockdown, we cover the five large salon windows with lexan storm plates. The plates screw into welded sockets on the window corners and are easy to install--we can put all five on in less than ten minutes. When not in use, we stow the plates beside the stack on the boat deck, under a canvas cover. On the offshore run to SE Alaska, we didn't feel the storm plates were necessary. But on the Prince William Sound trip, when waves were breaking against the side of the boat above the level of the pilothouse, we were glad the storm plates were in place.

We also have deadlights, metal covers that screw into the interior of the porthole, for the eight along the sides of the boat (one in the galley, two in the master stateroom, one in the master head, and four in the guest stateroom). Deadlights for the master stateroom are particularly important because the portholes there are large and close to the waterline. A nice side-effect is that the deadlights darken the room, making it easier to sleep there during daylight on a multi-day passage. The deadlights are a little more troublesome to install than the storm plates. The master stateroom deadlights fit right over the top of the porthole, but we have to remove the window hinges to install the rest. We keep them all stowed low in a bilge when not in use.

Our bow roller has a captive pin to secure the anchor underway. Matching the anchor and bow roller holes is a little fussy however, so we use a carabiner and short length of line to secure the anchor most of the time. But when preparing for heavy weather, we use the pin.

We've installed D-rings in the cockpit and boat deck and use ratchet straps to secure everything on deck. We generally keep them that way, including the heavy outdoor teak tables, although this isn't really necessary for local conditions. About the only thing we'll keep loose on a regular basis when underway locally is our teak chairs. But even for a short run across say, the Strait of Juan de Fuca, we secure the chairs as well.

We also use ratchet straps and bungee to secure fluids and large bins in the engine room and lazarette, and these always are kept in place.

Other heavy weather preparation items include locking down the davit, and plugging the furnace exhaust so water can't be forced down. And after the caprail flipped open during the Prince William Sound trip, we now secure it with bungie when preparing for rough seas.

When it comes to managing interior lockers, particularly the galley, one school of thought is to keep the lockers packed as tightly as possible, with no glass containers, so that nothing can shift or break in rough weather. We'd find that a little onerous--we want the galley to be workable in normal conditions. We generally don't have a problem with items shifting inside galley lockers anyway, even in pretty rough conditions. But when preparing for more extreme weather, we use bubble wrap, nerf balls, and foam scraps to keep thing secure and quiet underway. And we keep a bag of foam scraps handy to stuff into any place that develops a noise--it's surprising what will move or squeak in big seas. Even with no risk of items falling, keeping noise levels down reduces anxiety--you don't wonder what is loose and what might happen. Offshore sailors reported that loose items shifting and falling reduces a crew’s confidence in their vessel’s safety.

We put big sheets of bubble wrap above and around our glasses and plates, and wrap any items, such as glass olive oil bottles. And we stuff small pieces of bubble wrap in the fridge and pantry shelves to keep items there from moving. 

To keep vertically-stored items such as cookie sheets and baking pans from rattling and shifting, we stuff a nerf ball between them and the locker wall.  

We always keep one refrigerator bar in the back half of the fridge--the large heavy bottles there slide too easily. The bars do make taking things in and out a pain, though, so we only put the front bar in place as part of heavy weather preparation.

We have lever latches on anything in the galley that could swing open underway--the fridge, dishwasher and oven doors, the garbage compactor, the freezer drawers, the two large drawers beside the dishwasher, and the heavy sliding pantries. We often use the levers underway locally, and are careful to keep them latched when underway in any rough water. The levers are much easier to use than the standard barrel bolts--we're glad to have upgraded.

To keep any loose items on flat surfaces from shifting, we distribute silicone backing mats throughout the boat. Rick Lamb of Nordhavn 47 Sojourn Mariner recommended them. The mats look better than the non-skid liner we use in our lockers, and are thin, so items can rest partway on the mat.

Our Ekornes chairs have swing tables that we stow, but we leave the chairs loose. We've never had a problem with them even shifting until the Prince William Sound return trip--one of the chairs actually flipped over when we took a particularly large wave on the side. If it happens again we might devise a way to secure them, but haven't felt the need so far.

One of the reasons we made the offshore run from Seattle to Prince William Sound was to gain experience. A gale in the Gulf of Alaska wasn't exactly the sort of experience we were hoping for. But we did learn that the boat, and our rough-water preparations, could take the conditions. The full log of both offshore runs is at Cruising Prince William Sound.

Three days out from Prince William Sound, on our way north, the forecast called for 30-knot SE winds and 10-foot seas. Two days out, the forecast had worsened to 40 knots from the SE with 13-foot seas. As we neared, the surface analysis charts showed the low deepening from 998 to 991. Within a day, the barometer fell from 1014 to 1003 and the seas built from calm to 10-12' on the stern quarter. Even with the stabilizers and autopilot working well, the boat motion still was substantial. We had to be careful to have good handholds when moving about--crawling often was easier.

We ended up not using the off-watch berth at all on this trip. Partly because the pitching motion the first few days was enough to make sleeping there difficult, and also because it was easier on the person on watch to not worry about making noise and waking the person who was off-watch.

In the past when we've been in rough water and had difficulty sleeping in the pilothouse berth, the master was comfortable. In this storm, James slept fine in the master berth, but I was having trouble falling asleep because I was sliding around on the bed with the sideways motion. I eventually wedged myself between the bed and the floor, and slept well.

At some point during the storm, the starboard caprail flipped open. It's a big, heavy piece of solid fiberglass--that must have taken some force. Nobody felt inclined to go out and close it though. One more item for the heavy weather preparation list--on the return trip, we ran a bungee from the inside to the outside handle to hold it down.

We hit much worse weather on the return trip. We'd left Prince William Sound as conditions were settling down from a gale the night before. At the Cape Cleare Data Buoy, the wave height had fallen steadily from 20' at 10pm to 11' by 11:50am, and the forecast indicated continued improvement. Another storm was predicted in a few days, and we wanted to get well south before it hit.

Conditions, however, worsened rather than improved. The winds picked up to 30 knots, with gusts to 41 and then to increased to 40 knots with gusts to 59. The seas were 13', about 5 seconds apart, and were breaking above the pilot house roof. Several slammed into the side of the boat at that height--we were glad to have the lexan storm shields on those big salon windows.

This time we were taking the waves on the bow and the pitching motion was severe.  We both got seasick, James for the first time ever. Although it wasn't debilitating, we both put on a scopolamine patch so we could keep food/water down. I'd had no problems with seasickness on the way up--severe pitching generally is what does me in. Spitfire seemed to be nervous, but otherwise did well. He ate lots, slept lots, and occasionally headed down below to use the cat box.

We were through the storm in 36 hours, although it felt a lot longer. We were pretty tired, but the boat handled remarkably well throughout. The furnace plug was torn off during the storm, the wind pressure against the dinghy cover wore a hole through it, and our US flag was slightly shredded, but otherwise we had no issues. The rest of the trip home was amazingly calm--we could run for days or weeks in those conditions.

Seasickness really makes taking video unappealing, but we did shoot some on the trip north as the storm was building. Waves never seems to look as big in pictures as in person, but notice in a few frames the horizon disappears off the top of the screen and then almost under the bow. Those waves are a good 8-10'. You can see the stabilizers working to counteract the rolling motion of the waves. And notice the caprail flipped open in some of the starboard shots.

We were surprised at how quiet the pilothouse is. The salon isn't particularly loud, but the engine noise is more apparent there. We'd never noticed that until put the video together. We have things pinned down pretty well everywhere, so boat is pretty quiet even in some of those big sideways swings.

We've spent the last few days lazing in the the sun in the San Juan Islands after returning from Prince William Sound. Yesterday we anchored in Reid Harbor on Stuart Island. Jose Sousa, who had been following our trip online, stopped by to say hello. His 1999 Lord Nelson Victory Tug 41Carolina is so well-maintained it looks better than new. Interestingly, his boat was built by South Coast Marine--the same yard that built Dirona. Jose recognized much of the hardware on our boat from the Lord Nelson.

We're now anchored in Roche Harbor, with Nordhavn 62 Gray Matter tied alongside. Christine Guo and Mark Mohler took ownership two weeks ago and are enroute to Sidney, B.C. through the San Juans. We met them in Reid Harbor and decided to raft up for the night.

We all headed in to the pub at Roche Harbor Resort for lunch. The docks were incredibly busy--even the dinghy dock space is packed. We've not been there for a few years--the place has changed quite a bit, with new construction up the hill behind the the resort.

After, we toured English Camp, established over the "Pig War" after Britain and the United States nearly went to war in 1859.  

And now we're settled in for a relaxing evening.

In the early 1900s, nearly 25,000 ounces of gold were extracted from Granite Mine, making it one of the more productive in Prince William Sound. From our anchorage in Bettles Bay (Bing/Google map), we ran the dinghy north to five miles north to Hobo Bay to hike to the mine ruins.

The trail led for a mile across open bog, with nice views into Bettles Bay at the start and across a tidal lagoon into Port Wells on the other side.

Then we picked up the old corduroy road to the mine and started seeing ruins--scattered equipment, collapsed buildings with an old fridge full of rusty tin cans, and even an old shoe. One piece of equipment read "Joshua Hendy Ironworks S.F. CA". (Corduroy roads, with closely-spaced crosslogs, were built over boggy ground so animals and equipment would not sink in.

The stamp mill, where rocks were crushed to extract the gold, was about a half-mile down the corduroy road. It has collapsed a lot since Lethcoe's photograph, but the massive beams supporting the crushers still stand on their concrete footings.

Another half-mile along the road, we found a mine shaft. A drill machine stood along the tracks a short distance in front of the opening. Hydrualic hoses, fittings and various pieces of equipment littered the ground around it.

Trail notes: Land on the sloping black shale beach in the northeast corner of the Hobo Bay, directly north of the buoy charted on 16711 (we didn’t see it), where several stumps stand in a creek delta. The trail isn't visible from the water, but is obvious just south of the creek once you are ashore. The trail runs northeast for a mile across the bog, just east of where the woods thicken and the land slopes upwards. Once you can see the tidal lagoon, the trail continues northwest along the east side of the alder line to a collapsed building, then the corduroy road runs northeast for about a half-mile to the stamp mill. The mine shaft is another half-mile beyond, atop a stable rock pile. Wear waterproof footwear. The trail, particularly the first mile through the bog, is soggy. Note: Lethcoe says the mine is a half-mile walk from Hobo Bay, but it's actually about 1.5 miles to the stamp mill and another half-mile to the mine shaft.

Disk Cove (Bing/Google map) is a sheltered, nearly landlocked cove with mountains all around.

We were out in the dinghy soon after we'd anchored yesterday. Several hills around the cove looked easy to climb, and would have good views. A ten-minute, easy climb from a creek along the east shore brought us to a meadow with a good view of the anchorage below. After the hike, we set off on a tour around Disk Island. At the north end of Foul Pass, a waterfall on Ingot Island spilled down from high above. Foul Pass was complex and interesting to explore, and soon we were almost all the way around. This would have been a nice, easy paddle around the island in the kayaks.

Louis Bay, to the southwest, had even better dinghy territory. At the extreme head of the east arm was a narrow slot with waterfall as backdrop and steep cliffs around--a good place to stern anchor/tie since there wouldn't be wind on the beam. The head of west arm was even more interesting. On the east side was a fairly large and tranquil basin that the dinghy could easily enter on a mid-tide. It looked like a good place to find bears.

On the west side we followed a narrow channel alongside a steep cliff. The channel was deep enough, but the current was strong, so it took a bit of effort to keep the dinghy off the walls. Inside was a tiny tranquil basin with a waterfall behind and cliffs on each side. I went ashore to take some pictures of James in the dinghy, when James yelled "Bear!". A small black bear was lumbering along the waterfall towards the basin. At first we weren't too concerned, as he couldn't reach me by shore, but then we remembered how well bears can swim. I got back in the dinghy pretty quickly after that. The bear didn't seem interested in us though--he clambered up the shore on the other side of the falls and into some shrubs. We could see the bushes shaking for a while after--perhaps it was eating berries.

Two sailboats, Rag Doll of Valdez and Accomplice, already were at opposte sides of the cove inside when we had arrived mid-morning. Later in evening a small cruiser with three boys arrived, avid fisherman all. The three had fishing poles in the water within seconds of the anchor dropping. And after them a large cruiser, Outer Limits, anchored near us with at least five people on board. They worked flat out for at least a couple of hours processing fish. I wonder how much they'd caught?

Anchoring notes: The entrance is tight but doable--we'd comfortably take a larger boat such as a Nordhavn 55 or 63 through. We followed Lethcoe's directions and saw min 20' on a 2' tide, with no current through the entry. We anchored off the east shore in 80' with room for 3:1 scope. The anchor, and chain, came up coated with thick, smelly mud.

View live updates at Bing Maps or Google Maps

We arrived last night in Prince William Sound after seven days at sea. We had a couple of nice days en route, but those were bookended by three days of poor weather at the start, and two days through a gale warning in the Gulf of Alaska at the end. Overall, the boat performed remarkably well throughout.

Here are some trip statistics:

• Total time: 166.7 hours, or 6 days, 22 hours, 40 minutes
• Total distance: 1171 nm
• Fuel consumption: 988.6 gallons
• Average fuel consumption: 5.9 gal/hour
• Average fuel economy: 1.18 nm/gal
• Average speed: 7.03 knots
• Average engine output: 117 hp

We've archived the trip up at Bing/Google and will post our location as we cruise Prince William Sound at Bing/Google.

View live updates at Bing Maps or Google Maps

We are en route to Prince William Sound, returning at the end of August. Earlier this year, we did a minor refit, including installing a KVH TracPhone V7 satellite phone and internet system, and upgrading our TracVision M5 satellite TV system to a TracVision M7. Now that we have offshore connectivity, we'll be updating our location regularly at www.mvdirona.com.

Teakerne Arm Marine Park is a popular summer destination in the Desolation Sound area (map). The main attractions are Cassel Lake and the waterfall draining it that spills over a cliff into a basin at the inlet head. The park is even more spectacular in the winter, when two waterfalls gush from the lake, churning up the basin and filling the air with mist. Our first winter visit there was in 2002, and we returned this winter during our Christmas cruise in the 52.

Mooring there is a challenge, however, as the shore is steep-to all around. Our entry from that 2002 winter trip reads: "We worked really hard to anchor. The first attempt was in 100' with 200' down. We pulled back into the falls, but dragged into 50' depths, so by then were too close to shore. Considered many options--stern tie here and there, perhaps tie bow to ring behind Parks sign and stern to a tree on point east of falls--but didn't want to be sideways to the wind. Eventually we dropped the anchor in 120', put out 350', and pulled back to the point east of the falls. With all this logging equipment around, this would be an ideal place to lose an anchor. We had planned to tie the stern line to a tree up on top of the point, but found a logging ring lower down that was easier and closer. In the end, we spent over an hour getting our spot, but what a spot it was. Gorgeous sunset to the west--the sky suddenly opened just as we were trying to anchor and bathed us in warm sunshine, making it more compelling to stop. The falls are amazing--twins and probably five times the flow of the summer."

Anchoring on this past trip was no easier. To keep things simple, we decided to just anchor where we had in 2002. But the anchor dragged when we tested the set, and again when we tried setting farther out. We brought the anchor all the way up to make sure it wasn't fouled. The Rocna 70 was packed with mud, rock and branches, plus a steel cable was wrapped around the flukes. No wonder it was dragging.

The cable was under tension, and we could see something large hanging from it several feet below the surface. We weren't going to be able to flip the cable off with a boat hook or anything lightweight. This was a good opportunity to test our Ultra trip hook, unused so far in the bow locker. We caught the cable with the trip hook, tied the hook's main line to a cleat on deck, and lowered the anchor out of the way. With the trip hook now holding the cable's weight, we pulled on the trip line. The cable, and whatever was weighing it down, disappeared into the murky depths.

With that problem solved, the anchor readily set on our next attempt. The final stage was running the stern-tie line, another piece of equipment we'd not yet tested. We stern-tie with a messenger. For the 52, Dave White of Whitefab had built us custom reels to mount on the center swimstep staple.

 The system worked perfectly on the first attempt, and we soon were stern-tied to the logging ring on the point.

And, finally, we could go have some fun.

We've never seen so many boats in Liberty Bay. Easily a thousand vessels filled the anchorage, by some counts two or three thousand. This was our first time attending Poulsbo's Third of July Independence Celebration, and the event clearly was popular. We'd been anchored at Nisqually Flats that morning when we read in the Three Sheets Northwest summary of July 4th boat-accessible fireworks displays that Poulsbo would once again have a July 3rd fireworks display. We love fireworks displays, and usually find a good place to watch onboard. But with July 4th being on a "school night", our only likely choice was from our slip at Bell Harbor Marina. As soon as we learned about the Poulsbo display, we weighed anchor and got underway.

We were expecting a big turnout, but were amazed at the number of boats when we arrived around noon. The anchorage was filled from end to end, with many rafts of boats tied together. Rafts of four and five boats were commonplace, many contained at least ten boats, and some groups had formed circular rafts of more than twenty boats--that takes some organization and skill. At the bottom row in the following photos are the large circular rafts of Everett (left) and the Roche Harbor Yacht clubs.

Extreme tidal ranges often seem to occur on summer long weekends, and with a -2.5-foot low tide, this one was no exception. Nearby, a couple of boats were caught in the extensive Poulsbo shallows. With over an hour to go before low tide, one boat was keeled dangerously over to one side. The other sat upright in the mud, and the occupants "made lemonade" by taking the opportunity to clean their hull. Both boats eventually floated off several hours later when the tide came back up.

The fireworks barge arrived in the early afternoon, with workers on board preparing the pyrotechnics for tonight's show.

The barge actually was two barges tied together, with a tug pushing. The tug captain somehow had to make his way to the head of the bay through the crowd of anchored boats. With help from the Poulsbo police boat and others who pushed boats out of the way to clear a path, the tug captain was able to work the barges through the boats and over to the head.

A steady stream of boats arrived all afternoon and evening until the fireworks started. Some anchored on their own, while others joined existing rafts. We found a spot at the southwest corner, on the edge of the shallows, and mostly stayed out of the craziness in the middle, where boats were anchored almost on top of each other. Our radar image below, taken shortly after we arrived, gives you feel for how full the bay already was. The open area in the northwest side is where the fireworks barge was positioned--the police kept it clear of boats.

We had a great afternoon watching all the activity and then sat back to enjoy the fireworks display. Happy 4th of July everyone, and thanks to Three Sheets Northwest for alerting us to the event at Poulsbo.

After a day at Margerie Glacier, we returned down Tarr Inlet to overnight at Reid Inlet. The anchorage there is close to where Tarr and John Hopkins Inlets join Glacier Bay, and is convenient for visiting the glaciers at their heads. Reid Glacier in Reid Harbor also is one of the few shore-accessible glaciers in the park. Like most glacial-carved inlets, Reid Inlet is generally deep throughout. Most boaters anchor in the northwest corner at the inlet mouth, where a spit provides shelter from northerly winds and and reasonable anchoring depths of 20-30 feet. We instead dropped the hook near the head, in 147 feet, for a close-up view of the glacier.

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Tramp Harbor is an unusual anchorage on the east side of Vashon Island. The harbor is mentioned in the cruising guides, but not with a glowing recommendation. The anchorage is open to the north and southeast, but makes a good stop when winds are calm or from the west. Southwest winds can blow over the isthmus between Maury and Vashon Islands, but the anchorage is so close to shore that the fetch is minimal and the boat simply moves a bit at anchor. We’ve overnighted there comfortably during gale-force southwest gusts.

Our first few visits were in the winter, when winds are generally from the south, so we originally anchored close to southwest shore. Low tide there brings the residents out to beach-comb and horse-back ride. Recently we've been visiting in the summer, and anchor off the northwest shore, with better protection from the prevailing summer northerly winds. The nearby fish haven attracts scuba divers, who arrive in groups on charter boats to explore underwater.

The area around the narrow strip of land between Vashon and Maury islands is called Portage. Before the land-to-land connection was built, the neck carried water-to-water traffic between Tramp Harbor and Quartermaster Harbor on the other side. The distinctive two-story building visible ashore is the now-closed Portage Store. The store was established in 1903 and operated for a century.

The charted pilings in front of the store are the remains of the old dock where the Mosquito Fleet landed. These ships supplied regular passenger and freight service to Puget Sound communities from 1850 to the 1930s. Reminiscent of those historic vessels, the Royal Argosy on occasion makes a long slow pass through the harbor and around our anchored boat.

Nearby is what we have dubbed the “Portage Fitness Club.” When we last visited the area, old broken-down exercise equipment was strung along the road facing Tramp Harbor. You won’t get much exercise, but you couldn’t ask for a workout with a finer view.

Just south of the fishing pier, a walled abutment makes a good dinghy landing point. We've taken the bikes ashore there for an island tour.

The anchorage is a light show in the evening: against a backdrop of light from Vashon Island and the mainland, six different radio towers on Vashon Island flash within sight and a constant stream of planes land and take off at Sea-Tac airport across East Passage.

Anchoring notes: For good southwest protection, anchor in 3-5 fathoms directly north of the three King radio towers shown on Chart 18448. Better northerly protection is in 6-8 fathoms south of Point Heyer and west of the fish haven.

At the turn of the 19th century, the US government built six forts to protect the Puget Sound and the naval shipyard at Bremerton from water-based attack. All have since been decommissioned and sold to the State of Washington, and five are now state parks. The three heavy batteries at the entrance to Admiralty Inlet are perhaps the most well-known: Fort Worden near Port Townsend, Fort Flagler on Marrowstone Island and Fort Casey, midway along the west shore of Whidbey Island. Middle Point (now Manchester State Park) and Fort Ward, also popular destinations on opposite sides of Rich Passage, provided extra protection for the naval shipyard. (Map of area).

The sixth fortification, Fort Whitman on Goat Island in Skagit Bay, guarded the entrance to Puget Sound through Deception Pass and along the east shore of Whidbey Island. Goat Island is part of the Skagit Wildlife Area rather than a state park, and further differs from the others in being accessible only by water. The fort also is relatively unknown, despite the thousands of boaters that pass close by each year en route through Swinomish Channel. Fort Whitman, like many batteries of the period, is completely invisible from the water. Even though we've been ashore there, when we passed Goat Island on our way to and from TrawlerFest in Anacortes last weekend, we could see no evidence of the fort. The only clue to its existence is the decaying dock along the north side of the island.

The Battery Harrison gun emplacement, with mounts for four six-inch disappearing guns and supporting buildings, form the majority of the fort. When we last visited in 2007, the battery was in good condition, with relatively little graffiti compared to some others we've seen. Even though we were expecting the battery, it's a bit of a shock to find such huge infrastructure tucked away in the woods out of sight.

The remains of a mine field control and observation post are down the road beyond the battery, on the western tip of the island. They were more overgrown than the battery.

If you go: It's an easy dinghy ride or paddle from the Deception Pass area to visit Fort Whitman. The trail to the fort starts along the north shore, behind and about halfway along the dock. The trail head is difficult to spot from the water, but was reasonably obvious once we were ashore. When we were last there, a log was strapped straight up onto another one at the trail head. The going is steep for a short distance, then becomes wide and easy when the trail joins the road to the fort.

When we awoke at Russell Island after our first day in Glacier Bay, AIS showed the pocket cruise ship Safari Explorer anchored out of sight at the north end of the island. They left about 5:30am, heading up Tarr Inlet to Margerie Glacier, and we did the same about 15 minutes later. We were a little disappointed, as we had hoped that by getting up early we'd have some time alone at the glacier. But in the end, we had the place to ourselves for hours. Because its so popular, we were expecting Glacier Bay to be crowded, similar to Desolation Sound Marine Park. But the Glacier Bay comprises 950 square miles of marine waters compared to 32-square-mile Desolation Sound, and the seasonal permit restrictions limit the number of boats per day to at most 2 cruise ships, 3 tour vessels, 6 charter vessels, 1 passenger ferry and 25 private vessels. We were alone more often than not.

Last spring, Bob Lane interviewed us and reviewed Dirona for PassageMaker magazine. Bob has an experienced reporter's eye for detail. And as a long-time boater who has toured and written up a lot of boats, he notices what works and what doesn't. After touring the boat and describing the systems and upgrades, we discussed our goals in purchasing the boat and future travel plans. At the time of the interview, our 24x7 trip to Alaska was several months off. It would be a be a proof-of-concept trip for us, as we'd not run overnight before, let alone that far offshore.

We'll be discussing that trip, including lessons learned and highlights, at PassageMaker's Anacortes Trawler Fest next month. Our session is Alaska: 24x7 on Saturday May 14th at 10:30am. Dirona also will be open for the Trawler Crawl on Saturday from 4pm to 5pm (and possibly on Friday at the same time if we arrive early enough). 

Bob's article was packed with details and interesting perspectives. It's not often you can read an article about your own boat and learn something. We particularly liked his comment that the repeating monitors in the salon and master stateroom "... are the closest thing to art you’ll find aboard Dirona." We have a four-monitor glass cockpit, and each those monitors can be repeated on a screen in the salon or the master stateroom. At dock, we use the repeaters to monitor weather, and when underway we view engine telemetry, AIS, radar and the chart plotter. The master stateroom repeater was particularly useful on the run to Alaska, as someone off-watch there could easily view most data available in the pilot house with the push of a button.

Bob's full article is at http://www.mvdirona.com/TechnicalArticles/TheHamiltonNordhavn.pdf. PassageMaker digital subscribers can read it at  http://www.passagemaker-digital.com/passagemaker/201103?pg=72#pg72.

We moor most of the time at Bell Harbor Marina in downtown Seattle. About a third of the marina's slips are available for monthly moorage over the winter, and the remainder are for transient moorage only. We enjoy the continually changing scene as boats come and go. Some weekdays the marina will be almost empty, and other times a yacht club will secure every available spot, even med-mooring at times to fit everyone in.

And at the marina's charter dock and the adjacent Terminal 66 Cruise Facility, some of our transient neighbors can be quite large. From May through September, we can step outside at dawn with a cup of coffee and watch a cruise ship slowly approach, make a wide turn and dock a few hundred feet from our boat. Navy ships also frequent that dock--besides the US navy, we've seen French, Canadian, and Russian ships moored there.

Ships on the charter dock have included the refurbished ferry that is the floating sales office for the Point Ruston condo project, the Canadian Forces Auxiliary Vessels Glendale and Glendyne, the Seaspan Monarch.

Recently, the fishing vessel Aquila spent several days on the charter dock. We usually walk down to check out these boats, and were particularly curious about the Aquila. It looked similar to the crab fishing boats we see on Deadliest Catch, and we were wondering why it had come into the marina. Usually boats of that size will moor on the outside pier rather than work their way into the marina.

The Aquila, it turned out, not only was a former Alaska crab fishing boat, but it was a chase boat for the previous Deadliest Catch season. Owner/operators Kale and Angela Garcia had chartered it to Applied Signal Technology, a company that Raytheon had recently purchased. Applied Signal Technology was demonstrating their HD sonar technology to prospective customers throughout the week. That's why the Auqila was inside the marine--the outer dock has much stricter security.

In the pictures below, the large yellow box on deck is the sonar, and the pole attached to the side of the Aquila is used to track the sonar's location. An image taken that day of a wreck off the Elliott Bay sea floor near West Seattle was so clear it looked almost like a photograph.

The Aquila was at Bell Harbor Marina for a week, leaving each afternoon and returning each evening. Kale Garcia is amazingly competent with that boat. The entrance to Bell Harbor Marine is about 75 feet wide and requires a blind, 120 degree turn to port shortly inside, with about 200 feet between the end of the pier and the shore. Below is a video of our entry last week. We find it tight in our 52' boat, with it's 16' 1" beam, particularly if much wind is blowing.

The Aquilais 150' long with a 40' beam--we have no idea how Kale managed to get that boat in and out each day. The first time they arrived, he did a U-turn to come onto the commercial dock. Later in the week, they were backed in, and left by backing out. Whenever that boat was underway, we sat on deck and enjoyed the show. We felt like applauding each time--that was some impressive boat handling.

Dirona recently was featured in the Three Sheets NorthwestMy Boat series. When we answered their questions, it had been about a year since we'd taken delivery of 5263, so it was a good chance for us to reflect back on the purchase and decision process.

One of their interview questions we had the hardest time answering was "What do you know now about your boat that you wish you’d known when you bought it?" We've not really had any unpleasant surprises. We did have some concerns about how some of our customizations would turn out, such as the day head, and the galley and guest stateroom redesigns. But these have worked out well and we wouldn't make any changes there. After a year with the boat we're even more convinced the main engine upgrade was the right decision. The hydraulics are an expensive option that introduce more complexity, but we love the system. It's great having thrusters that can run all day, even though we don’t use them that way, and we really like the higher HP thrusters that a hydraulic system makes possible. And with a hydraulic windlass, we easily can anchor in very deep water and not have to worry about overheating the windlass. For example, we anchored in 145' in front of Reid Glacier, with a 154 lb anchor on 450’ of chain at 2 lbs per foot.

Were we to go through the process again, the list of changes we'd consider is pretty short. Mechanically, we'd like more horsepower on the wing. The wing can drive the boat at adequate speed, but doing that requires higher load than we're comfortable with. It would be slightly better to have higher horsepower for emergency use, and definitely better for hydraulic use.

Since our boat was built, Nordhavn has come out with several alternate interior layouts for the 47/52 that avoid having to go up the stairs to the pilot house and back down to reach the staterooms from the salon. The pilot houses also are larger, with room for two helm chairs, which we would like. The new designs do appear to have less storage space, though, and there's no clear place for a day head. Since the stairs aren't a huge issue, avoiding them would have to be weighed off against the losing storage space and the day head. Storage actually isn't a big issue for us though--we still have several empty lockers and drawers after living aboard for a year and buying almost every spare parts we could think of. 

A slightly larger salon also would be nice, but that would reduce the cockpit size, and we do like the large outdoor area. The rest of the changes we'd make are pretty minor, including better lighting in the galley, no fiddle on the flybridge table, and larger doors into the storage area in the flybridge brow.

The full interview is at My Boat: MV Dirona. We've also posted details on several of the topics touched on in the interview, including our purchase and customization experience, visiting the yard in China, and watching the offloading in Tacoma. 

This year at the Miami Boat Show, Northern Lights announced their new Wavenet generator digital monitoring system. Wavenet was installed on Dirona a couple of months prior to the announcement in Miami to test out the gear on a busy NMEA 2000 network in real boating conditions. I was pretty impressed with Wavenet from the beginning, but sometimes that excitement fades with time or the new gear ends up being a service problem. After a half year in service, we’re still as hooked as we were on the first day.

Our main engine is a full electronic John Deere 6068AFM75 and this engine makes available on the SAE J1939 bus a huge variety of information including engine RPM, coolant temperature, percent load, fuel pressure, fuel consumption rate, oil pressure, boost pressure, torque, alternator voltage, and number of hours. We use a Maretron J2k100 J1939 to NMEA 2000 gateway to get all this data delivered to boats central NMEA 2000 backbone.

We really like having all this data available and we use it constantly when underway. But we had no data available from our Lugger L844D wing engine and Northern Lights M843NW3.3 generator. Wavenet solved this problem without any adapters or other electronics, and makes available on the NMEA 2000 bus: generator output, AC voltage, line frequency, tachometer, water temp, oil pressure, alternator voltage, and engine hours.

I would have happily paid the price of Wavenet just for the generator telemetry data to NMEA 2000, but the system also includes optional remote panels that display all the data available and, in addition, support remote one-touch start/stop. Each panel is a simple, 1 wire installation. Put a tee in the NMEA 2000 cable, attach the drop cable to the Wavenet remote panel and its operational. We ended up installing three remote panels: at the electrical panel to replace the original generator control panel, another above helm, and a third in the salon. I love being able to just reach over from my seat in the salon, without getting up, and turn off the generator, or see the current output or how long it has been running.

Technically Wavenet only supports Northern Lights generators but, if you have a Lugger wing engine as many of us with Nordhavns do and you ask the folks at Northern Lights really nicely, I suspect they would be willing to offer Wavenet for your Lugger as well. Since we have hydraulic bow and stern thrusters with the wing engine providing primary hydraulic pressure, we start and stop the wing engine quite frequently. It’s great to be able to reach up from the helm and press start as we approach a marina. I don’t have to hold down pre-heat and then start. Just touch start on the Wavenet remote panel, it signals the on-engine control unit which takes the engine through the proper preheat and start cycle. When we are done with the wing, we just touch stop on the remote panel. It’s a very nice setup for those that use the wing frequently as we do.

For safety reasons, we chose to keep the standard analog wing engine controls to ensure the engine is available even if the NMEA 2000 or Wavenet systems fail.

A side benefit of having both the wing engine and the generator controlled by Wavenet is any remote can control either engine. It turns out that I frequently turn the generator off and on with the panel that I originally installed to control the wing engine.

The three main venet wins from my perspective: 1) all engine and generator data available on NMEA 2000 bus, 2) supports remote monitoring, and 3) supports one touch remote start/stop. More on Wavenet at: http://www.northern-lights.com/PDFs/news/L575M_wavenet.pdf.

Glacier Bay has long been high on our list of places to visit. And after nearly a week cruising southeast Alaska, the first day of our permit to enter finally had arrived. We'd technically been in the park for two nights already, as Dundas Bay is inside Glacier Bay National Park, but doesn't require a permit. Glacier Bay proper, however, was the goal--that's where the larger glaciers are. We would stay there for five nights, and spend hours taking in the spectacular rivers of rock and ice.

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On our Christmas trip to Desolation Sound this year, we were looking forward to testing the boat in some rough winter weather. We've been out in a few gale warnings, and the boat has handled well, but we wanted something more serious.

We got our chance one morning on a trip from Gorge Harbor to Grace Harbor (map of area). A major SE winter storm was underway, so we set off at first light to check out the conditions. The Strait of Georgia has a reputation for nasty weather year-round, but the north end is particularly bad during southeast winter storms, due to the long fetch and generally stronger winter winds. And opposing current through Discovery Passage and Sutil Channel can make conditions there downright hazardous. We've seen conditions so rough in Sutil Channel that the tough little BC Ferry Tenaka, was tacking on the route between Whaletown and Heriot Bay. And many boats have gone down in the tide rips off Cape Mudge. And the "occasional" bit of wood can appear in the area too. Below are a shots from our approach to Heriot Bay a few days later:

As we exited Gorge Harbor that morning, three-to-four-foot waves were blowing into the entry channel with four-to-six-foot waves just outside. The winds were blowing steady in the forties on our nose from the southeast. We started seeing gusts over fifty knots as we approached Sutil Point, where the waves were about ten feet high and closely packed. Fortunately, there wasn't much wood in the water en route. In the picture below, you can see waves hitting the the back of the boat hard enough to spray up high and pour into the cockpit.

We were heading to Baker Passage north of Hernando Island. We couldn't just turn east once clear of Sutil Point and put those big seas on our beam. So our plan was to continue on a southeast course towards the northwest end of Hernando Island, then turn northeast to enter the channel. And wouldn't you know it, the only other boat out there for miles was heading to exactly the same place. The Alaska Titan, barge in tow, was on an easterly course towards Baker Channel as we headed south. The captain radioed us to ask our intentions. We told him that we were a little constrained by conditions and asked if he could take our stern as he proceeded across our course, then we'd turn up the channel and follow him through the the passage. 

Once the tug had passed behind, we found a relatively calm set of waves to turn 90-degrees to the northeast and head up into Baker Passage. Conditions were calm in the lee of Hernando, then kicked up again as we exited Baker Passage. But they weren't as bad they had been on the first leg, and we have an uneventful remainder of the trip to Grace Harbor.

In the screen shot below, the Alaska Titan is the green triangle on the lower left as we are off Sutil Point. The picture on the right was taken just after we'd turned northeast. The barge is visible in the distance, with the tug almost disappearing off the edge of the window.

We'd been out in similar conditions in the 4087, and were wondering how the 52 would compare, particularly when the waves tried to twist the boat sideways. It might seem silly to imagine that the 4087 possibly could do better, but with two 270HP engines, the 4087 was surprisingly capable in big seas. Putting one engine full forward and the other in full reverse would generally bring the boat around pretty quickly when needed. With only a single 266HP engine, we thought the 52 might be less maneuverable. But the boat's weight and that big rudder seemed to make up for the difference in engine configuration. We had no trouble with the waves twisting the boat around, nor with making the 90-degree turn from southeast to northeast off Hernando Island. And another big plus was that we were able to run on autopilot the whole way. The autopilot on the 4087 couldn't keep up with big seas like that, so we'd have to steer manually, which required much effort at the helm. On the 52, we could just sit back in the pilot house and mostly take in the show.

Here's some video footage we shot along the way:

Two weeks ago, while anchored off Blake Island, a Defender Class Coast Guard boat approached. Rare before 9/11, we now frequently see these boats around Elliott Bay, accompanying ferries, patrolling the shoreline, or passing through Bell Harbor Marina where we often keep our boat. This one approached unusually close, and the crew indicated that they wanted to board us.

As they approached Dirona from the swimstep, a crewman at the bow counted down the feet between the two boats so the helmsman could stop their vessel just shy of contact. Then three of the five heavily-armed crew came aboard to inspect the boat, while the other two stayed aboard a short distance away.

The boarding crew introduced themselves and explained the process. The first question was if we had any firearms on board. Then they asked to see our identification and proof of ownership/registration. The next item was checking for sufficient lifejackets. We carry 2 Mustang MD3183 inflatables, 2 Mustang 2175 flotation suits, a Mustang Floation Bomber Jacket, 2 offshore lifejackets, 2 Stearns 29-79 Type III vests, 2 Stearns waist-pouch inflatables, and 6 near-shore Type IIs.

After the lifejackets, they asked about pyros. I wondered to myself why they would care if we had pyrometers on board, but it was pyrotechnics (flares) they were after. The final concern was that black water didn't discharge overboard, and then we were done. The boarding crew was polite and efficient--the whole process took less than 15 minutes.

Since we're out on the water so much over the past decade and the Coast Guard has never boarded any of our boats, we felt due. Most boardings we're familiar with have, however, been of vessels underway. The weather that day might have been part of the reason for the at-anchor boarding--it had been foggy earlier that morning. The boarding crew told us that they were out boarding boats and were worried there wouldn't be any out there in the fog.

Last weekend we presented at the Seattle Boat Show on our 24x7 run to Alaska.  The slides are posted at Hamilton_SBS11_Alaska24x7.pdf.  A couple of questions we were asked that weren't covered in the presentation were on seasickness and how Spitfire did on the trip.

Seasickness generally isn't a problem for James, but I will get seasick if the conditions are rough enough. I'm still functional when I'm seasick, but I just can't hold down any food or even liquid. Normally this isn't a big deal, and I don't bother taking any medication, as its generally only a problem for a few hours until we reach shelter. But on this trip, that wasn't going to be an option. So I got a prescription for "the patch" (Transderm Scop patch) to use in case I needed it. On the first night of the trip up to Alaska, we went through the Strait of Juan de Fuca during a gale warning (trip map). The wind was on our bow against the current, and the waves were steep and tightly packed. I actually was fine that night, perhaps because I was either at the helm or sleeping most of the time. But the next day conditions were still pretty rough and, while alert and functioning, I couldn't keep down any food. That night I applied a patch and it helped substantially. I did have some side-effects though: dilated pupils, a bad taste in my mouth and I was quite drowsy the first night I used it. But that was better than the alternatives--and I was able to eat most foods. I used the patch for the remainder of the trip up. You can see it behind my right ear in the picture below.

On the return trip, conditions were fine the first night, but we hit a gale warning the second night through Hecate Strait. The wind again was on our bow, also with steep, tightly-packed waves. I got seasick, so I wore the patch just until conditions settled down about 24 hours later. I was fine the rest of the trip down the west coast of Vancouver Island without it.

Spitfire mostly did quite well on the trip. When the water is really rough and the boat is moving a lot, he can get scared. Usually he settles down if we get a towel or blanket for him to wrap himself up in and hide (using the "If I can't see it then it can't see me" approach to scary situations).  He can get seasick too, so we control his food intake and only give him small amounts throughout the day. He did lose his kibbles in the Strait of Juan de Fuca that first night out, partly because he'd had a full meal earlier, but was fine after that. The boat motion was severe enough at some points that we felt safer moving around by crawling, and Spitfire adapted to that too. He'd sleep with one paw sticking out, like an outrigger, to stabilize himself. And he adopted a method of going down stairs we called "Front, front, hinds." Normally he runs down stairs with only one paw hitting a given step. But in the rough water, he'd carefully bring one front paw down, then the next to join it, then his hind paws, and then move to the next step.  

And once conditions settled down, Spitfire had a great time. He especially liked to "work" the graveyard shift with James. In foggy conditions, we turned on a large floodlight mounted high on the stack. Our experience with fishing boats is that the spotlight is visible from much greater distances in the fog than the navigation lights. Particularly when the floodlight was on, seabirds buzzed the boat and Spitfire charged back and forth along the dash top chasing them. And he likes to sleep in unusual places sometimes, so he adapted to the ocean swell by finding spots he could wedge himself into.

Last April, Circumnavigator magazine came aboard for a day to review the boat and its systems.  On board for the magazine were contributing editor James Kirby, photographer Stephen Cridland and John Marshall, owner of Nordhavn 55 owner Serendipity. Also with us was Larry Schildwachterof Emerald Harbor Marine, who commissioned the boat and installed our electronics, furnace and various other options. And Vessel Assist provided the chase boat that Stephen used for photos of Dirona underway.

The weather was unusually sunny and warm for April, and we had a great time out on the water taking Dirona through her paces and describing the systems we had in place. And that bright blue sky made Stephen Cridland's impressive photos even better.

The resulting articles are now posted online:

• Nordhavn 52: Evolution of the Species

• Nordhavn 52: At the dock and under way

• Nordhavn 52: Unusual boat for an unusual couple

• Nordhavn 52: Impressions of a Nordhavn 55 owner

The seminar schedule for the 2011 Seattle Boat Show has been posted. This year we’ll be presenting on Saturday Jan. 22nd at 11:30am on our trip to Alaska this summer.

We'll be describe our 5-day, 2-crew, 24x7 offshore run from Seattle directly to SE Alaska, and share highlights of our visit. We'll also discuss how we've rigged Dirona for this and similar trips, and any lessons learned regarding equipment and other choices we've made.

After the astonishing view to Mt. La Perouse in Dundas Bay West Arm, we didn't think the north arm could compare. But we were wrong--we liked the north arm even better. The head of the bay felt almost land-locked, with steep mountains all around. In the calm, glacial green waters, we felt as if we'd anchored in Lake Louise. Plus the area was rife with bluffs for a hike with a view.  (Map of area.)

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Nope--these pictures were taken in the south Puget Sound earlier today. We're out on a Thanksgiving cruise, and were anchored last night in the cove behind Raft Island (map of area). Temperatures were slightly above freezing yesterday, with a light snowfall. This morning we woke to a layer of snow on deck and a temperature of 29F. By the time we raised anchor, a good 4 inches had accumulated. Freezing temperatures in November are rare in the Puget Sound. According to SeaTac airport records, the high has been 32F or less in November only 14 days since 1945.

We cruised south to tie off at Penrose Park Marine park and walk ashore in the snow. A layer of ice covered the surface there and pushed against us as we moved towards the dock.

The park looked beautiful in the snow. No other footprints marked the surface--we apparently were the first ones there that day.

We couldn't stay the night, as the water level at the dock was 9' and the tide was going to drop in 11' to -2.1' that night. As we prepared to leave, a pair of ducks cut a path through the ice, perhaps to show us how easy it was.

We're now anchored in Filucy Bay as a major storm system is moving through. The temperature at 27F and falling, and we've seen wind gusts to 35 so far as the storm approaches. The system apparently is much stronger than the models predicted, and likely will bring more snow. It will be interesting to see what we wake up to tomorrow.

Although we hadn't run overnight before the Alaska trip, we frequently ran at night in the previous boat. And we did make a couple of night runs in the 52. The learning from those two runs proved invaluable in our 24x7 trip. We found that 1) the navigation screens were too bright, even turned down all the way with the software in night mode and 2) the steaming light illuminated the foredeck. Both impacted our night vision.

For the navigation screens, we built night-running monitor covers. These were highly effective for the trip to Alaska. Before leaving, we hadn't yet added attachments to secure the covers, and the screens did occasionally come off that first night in the Strait of Juan de Fuca when boat motion was severe. We secured them temporarily with blue masking tape that night and the following day added small velcro buttons on each side of the top edge of the monitor. The velcro has kept the covers in place even in the roughest conditions.

In dimming the monitors, we tended to go through stages as night fell. First we might put the navigation software in dusk mode and later night mode. When night mode became too bright, we'd put the covers on and switch back up to dusk or day mode. Then we'd continue dimming the modes until we had everything back into night mode. And we'd reverse those steps at dusk.

With the monitors dimmed properly, other light in the pilot house became more intrusive. This was less noticeable on the Puget Sound night runs in the 52, partly because there was more ambient light. But in the Alaska trip we also needed to dim the VHF radios, the autopilot, and the stabilizers, FLIR, hydraulics control panels. We even put a piece of blue tape over the small red light on the Mathers control.

The other night vision issue was that steaming light illuminated the foredeck. Emerald Harbor built a marineboard shield which solved the problem. They also built one for our forward-facing floodlight. Our experience with fishing boats is that the floodlight can be seen from much greater distances in the fog than the navigation lights. It's not particularly helpful, however, for spotting debris in the water.

We had red lights installed in the pilot house, galley, and day head when the boat was built. When running at night with significant ambient light, we'll put the red lights on everywhere. But on the run to and from Alaska, we found even the red lights in the pilot house too bright, and kept them off underway, turning them on only briefly during a watch change. We even disabled the two forward-most pilot house red lights, finding them too bright period. Having red lights always on in the galley and day head was convenient though, for quick runs down below. We also found a red flashlight handy to study something inside without ruining our night vision, or for the person off-watch berth to read by and not illuminate the pilot house.

For collision-avoidance at night, particularly in the fog, we relied heavily on radar and AIS: Furuno DRS25A 25kw 6.5' and DRS6A 6kw 4' open-array antennas and an FA150 Class A transponder. We passed perhaps thirty boats at night on the trip up. All came through clearly on radar and about five were fishing vessels that did not transmit on AIS. All the rest, mainly cruise ships, showed up on AIS typically about ten miles away. Night traffic was similar on the return trip, except off Barkley Sound, where we passed through during a fishing opening. None of the fleet were transmitting AIS, and we had to be vigilant to keep a safe distance.

We do have a FLIR Navigator thermal imager, and find it effective at picking things out where the temperatures differ. For example, it clearly resolved near-submerged glacial ice chunks that were difficult to see with the naked eye. But on the offshore run, there just wasn't much out there for it to pick up. We encountered almost no floating debris, logs or otherwise, and our rule at night was to not get within two miles of another boat, which is well beyond our FLIR's range of about a half mile.

The picture below is the north-up radar image off the west coast of Vancouver Island. Our boat is at the center of the screen, the large green circles are 4 nautical miles apart, the blue triangles are AIS targets, the white circle with a line is an ARPA target, and the white diamonds are lost ARPA targets. Approaching us are the cruise ships Sapphire Princess (12 miles away to our northwest), Oosterdam (11 miles north), Norwegian Pearl (8 miles northeast) and Celebrity Infinity (12 miles south). The fishing vessel Island Joy is about 7 miles south. And 8 miles southeast, in the clump of one ARPA target and several lost ARPA targets, the Canadian I is heading south.

Porcupine Bay was our last stop on the west side of Chichagof Island--we would spend the next week in Glacier Bay National Park. We still had two more days before we could enter the permit-only portion of the park, but we planned to spend a night or two in Dundas Bay first. (Dundas Bay is in the park, but is outside the restricted area.) We weren't really sure what to expect there, from either an anchorage or a scenery perspective, but the area turned out to be excellent on both measures.

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We've been ordering a seemingly endless number of supplies and spare parts for the boat, ranging from fuel filters to zincs to alternators to pumps, and even a spare inverter. Stowing it all has been a big job. The boat has a large amount of storage space in various lockers, bilges and other spaces, but most are irregularly-shaped. To maximize the storage space in an accessible way, and keep the spares safe from damage, we use Really Useful Boxes. The boxes are straight-sided, so don't waste space; are see-through, so we easily can see the contents; and are strong, so can handle heavier parts without shattering. And they come in about 50 sizes, ranging from 0.7L to 145L, so we usually can find a box, or combination of boxes, to make the most efficient use of any space.

In the flybridge brow, we use 5 64L boxes, and other sizes, to store lighter spares such as fuel and watermaker filters:

We've used a variety of sizes in the irregular area under the stairs down to the stateroom:

In the lazarette, we've got two stacks of 64L boxes, with a 33L on top. The two 64L boxes have a particularly handy feature in that the front folds down, so we can access the contents without destacking them. We've them held in place with bungee cord, but we easily can unhook the bungee to slide the whole stack out of the way:

The open-front 14L boxes are ideal for storing shoes:

In all, we've probably got 100 of the boxes in various sizes stashed around the boat, and we keep ordering more. We buy them from Office Depot, which carries a limited selection, and online at http://www.reallyusefulproducts.co.uk/usa/.

From Klag Bay, we toured north along the west shore of Chichagof Island, overnighting at Kimshan Bay and Porcupine Cove. We could easily have spent days in the area--the charts show a complex shoreline ideal for exploration by dinghy or kayak, along with several sheltered anchorages (map of area).

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One of the things we learned from our trip to Alaska is that 24x7 operation with a double-handed crew is achievable for us, and with reasonable comfort. We arrived at the end of the run feeling alert and well-rested. In planning for the trip, we researched aspects of running a boat 24x7, ranging from watchkeeping to food preparation. Most of the literature is written by and for sailboaters who were crossing oceans. Although much did apply in our case we, found that some of the concerns, such as watch comfort, were less of a concern for us because our helm is inside at the pilothouse where conditions are comfortable, warm and dry.

For watchkeeping, we wanted a system that would allow someone awake and at the helm at all times. Although the ocean is lightly-enough populated that some cruisers, notably single-handers, sleep for short periods and leave the boat to run on its own, we don't view that as sufficiently safe. Our decision is to have someone at the helm all the time.

In The Voyager's Handbook, Beth Leonard interviewed 13 cruising couples on their watchkeeping practices. Many started off with a 2-hour shift schedule for the entire 24-hour period, but as they gained experience, most evolved to scheduled watches of 4 or more hours overnight and no strict schedule during the day, so long as someone always was on watch. The Dashews use a three-hour system, while the Flanders use a four-hour schedule. Both have informal watches during daylight. The sleeping habits of the crew also can influence the schedule. For example, some people can get sufficient sleep in 2-hour chunks over a 24-hour period, where others need to sleep for longer periods at a stretch to feel sufficiently rested.

We initially planned to do 3 4-hour night watches and informal day watches, using the Flanders' model, with James taking the first watch at 8pm. In practice, we ended up doing the opposite. It turned out that I could sleep pretty much anytime, day or night, whereas James had difficulty sleeping during the day. After a couple of days, we evolved to a schedule where we'd run a formal night watch schedule of 3 4-hour shifts between 8pm and 8am. I took the first and last shifts, and James took the helm from midnight to 4am. After I came off-shift at 8am we'd have breakfast together, then I slept for 2-3 hours, we'd have lunch together, I'd sleep for another 2-3 hours, and we'd have dinner together before starting formal night watch shifts. We kept this same schedule on the way back down, and likely will adopt it on future trips.

We also were concerned about someone drifting off when on watch. To avoid this, we used our autopilot watch alarm set on a 5-minute interval. It sounds a beep whenever the control panel isn't touch for 5 minutes. We also purchased a backup alarm, but in practice didn't need it.

James found the graveyard shift, from midnight to 4am, a little tiring. Spitfire, however, loved it. In foggy conditions, we turned on a large floodlight mounted high on the stack. Our experience with fishing boats is that the spotlight is visible from much greater distances in the fog than the navigation lights. Particularly when the floodlight was on, seabirds buzzed the boat and Spitfire charged back and forth along the dash top chasing them. Both James and Spitfire were ready to sleep by the time 4am rolled around. Pictured below is the graveyard shift crew, sleeping off watch.

When we planned the offshore run directly from Seattle to Alaska, we'd allowed ourselves a day or so to recuperate and several days for weather delays before our permit entry date for Glacier Bay. We decided to spend a few days exploring the outer coast of Chichagof Island if we arrived early. We ended up not needing any of those buffer days, so had five nights before we were scheduled to enter Glacier Bay. Our first anchorage was at Klag Bay, about 65 miles north of Sitka (map of area). Sheltered anchorage is at the head, and ashore are the ruins of the abandoned mining town of Chichagof.

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Our Alaska trip was simply amazing. The glaciers and mountain scenery were incredible—we spent over a week in Glacier Bay National Park and several days in Tracy and Endicott Arms (trip map). We also cruised the complex outer coasts of Chichagof, Baranof and Prince of Wales Island, but barely scratched the surface there. The outer coast wildlife was particularly impressive—we saw hundreds of sea otters, pods of humpback whales, and coves so thick with salmon that you could walk across the surface on the protruding fins.

We ran 24x7 directly from Seattle along the west coast of Vancouver Island and the Queen Charlotte Islands, and reached the Glacier Bay area in 5 days. The total distance to our first anchorage was about 875 nautical miles. As is often the case for us, the worse conditions we hit were close to home. We left Seattle in the early evening and near midnight reached the Strait of Juan de Fuca, where the traffic lanes converge for all vessels moving in and out of the Puget Sound, Victoria and Vancouver. There, a westerly near-gale blowing against an ebb current was producing steep and closely-packed waves. Traffic was heavy and a thick fog reduced visibility to less than a half-mile. With the wind and waves on our bow, we slogged through that overnight and into the next morning, at times slowing down to 4.5 knots to reduce boat motion. The seas settled down as we exited the strait.

The rest of the run north was mostly uneventful. We ran about 50 miles offshore all the way, and encountered little traffic beyond the south end of Vancouver Island. The wind often blew 20-25 knots from the northwest and the waves sometimes were quite large. At times we could look straight out the pilot house to the wave tips (pictured below), but they weren’t tightly packed as in the Strait of Juan de Fuca. With the active stabilizers on, the ride was reasonably comfortable, although moving about inside the boat required care. Frequent thick fog limited visibility, but this didn’t pose much of a concern either with so little traffic. Overall, Dirona handled the trip with ease. Thanks to PAE and South Coast Marine for building a strong and capable boat, and to Emerald Harbor Marine for a high-quality commissioning.

In planning the route, we originally had considered clearing Canadian Customs in Victoria, then heading up the west coast of Vancouver Island and passing east of the Queen Charlotte Islands, through Hecate Strait, to clear U.S. Customs in Ketchikan. But the more we learned about Hecate Strait, the less appealing that plan became. The waterway is relatively shallow throughout, a few hundred feet at best, with only tens of feet at the north end. Southerly winds funnel through and steep seas develop quickly. One of our favorite local weather books, the now out-of-print Marine Weather Hazards Manual, says of Hecate Strait: “Because of the speed that the winds and seas can change, it has been said that Hecate Strait is the fourth most dangerous body of water in the world.” So we decided to just run offshore the whole way and perhaps clear in Sitka rather than in Ketchikan. Clearing customs, however, takes time in having to divert our course to an appropriate reporting station, and we’d have to deal with food and alcohol restrictions. Canada Customs said they had no policy on allowing alcohol beyond a very small amount to be carried through by boat, although an officer could choose to allow it. To be on the safe side, we’d need to stick to the limits and stock up when we cleared back into the US, costing more time. We weren’t planning to stop in Canada anyway, so we decided not to clear customs, saving many hours. If we did have to stop for safety reasons, we were told we could clear over the phone via Nexus, but they might send the RCMP out to inspect us as there are no reporting stations on the west coast of Vancouver Island or the Queen Charlotte Islands.

Alaska is a trip that we’ve wanted to make for a number of years, but you really need 3 months to do it right, and 2 months at a minimum. A large chunk of that time is spent just covering the 600 miles to the Alaska border, plus another 350 to reach Glacier Bay proper. We’ve never had more than four weeks off at a time, so the trip just didn’t seem feasible. But what we have been finding with the new boat is that, rather than the slower speed restricting where we can go compared the previous boat, we actually are travelling farther.

We were able to reach the Glacier Bay area in 5 days running 24x7. Reaching the same area in the previous faster boat, a Bayliner 4087, would have taken longer. To travel longer distances in the 4087, say 400 miles from Seattle to Queen Charlotte Sound, we typically ran from dawn to dusk, or about 14 hours per day. We cruised at about 14 knots, but often would average about 12 with wind and current. At that rate, we’d need to replenish our 220-gallon diesel supply daily, costing up to two hours to divert to a fuel dock and fill, and we’d likely have to slow down to manage our fuel consumption as fuel docks aren’t very frequent north of Vancouver island. So at best we could cover about 150 miles per day. In perfect conditions, it would take about 6 days to cover the same 875-mile distance to the Glacier Bay area, plus another half day to clear customs in Ketchikan and stock up on anything we couldn’t bring through Canada. In that period, however, there’d almost certainly be a weather delay, so the total trip likely would take more than a week. And we’d be tired at the end of that run. The 4087 wasn’t particularly loud, but the interior noise and vibration from the engines is substantial, and running at 14 knots requires a fair amount of focus at the helm.

That the 52 is so much quieter and comfortable underway is one of the reasons we’ve been finding that we can cover more ground. After our 5-day, 875-mile 24x7 run, we arrived at our first anchorage in surprisingly good shape. We certainly slept well that first night, but first we had dinner on deck and a relaxing evening.