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Thread: New Boat 4 Sled

  1. #501
    Join Date
    Sep 2007
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    Capitola,CA
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    2,197

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    Under WILDFLOWER's floor boards I have (had) 20 pounds of Tom's Best Ever Granola. It really is "best ever." I would like to give a shout out to my Sis and husband Tom, who have put their hearts, souls, and wallets into making "Tom's Best Ever."

    With toasted organic oats, pecans, sunflower seeds, almonds, pepitas, raisins, cranberries, apricots, cherries, peaches, honey, molasses, safflower oil and maple syrup, Tom's keeps me fueled. The local Texada blackberries are ripening. Blackberries,yogurt, and granola, yum.

    I can't imagine a more healthy, tasty, sailing food for combining ease of preparation, compact storage, no refrigeration. Thanks, Marilee and Tom!

    http://tomsbestevergranola.com/
    Last edited by sleddog; 07-27-2013 at 07:59 PM.

  2. #502
    Join Date
    Sep 2007
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    Capitola,CA
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    Just uphill from the one room Texada Boat Club is a storage yard for heavy equipment. It is part museum, with a Bucyrus-Erie steam shovel that looks like it was used to build the Panama Canal. Apparently everything works, and is actively used. The Boat Club built their own breakwater. The biggest backhoe I've ever seen is parked alongside a machine that apparently can pull a good size tree out by the roots.

    On a smaller scale I'm informally surveying the ever changing fleet for handy ideas and equipment. John, with his PSC 34 and 18 thru hulls, pressure water, hot water, 7 head hoses, and engine hoses figures he has "1,000 hose clamps in active duty." John swears by his flexible hose clamp wrench (looks like a screwdriver) which allows him to get into those otherwise impossible places and keep his many hose clamps snug.

    More than any body part, knees take abuse on small boats. Short of wearing knee pads, several have mentioned a foam gardener's knee rest for kneeling comfort. Lightweight, easy to stow, tough, and cheap, these knee rests measure about 9” x 24” and are available at garden shops.

    My own favorite are heavy duty clothes pins, actually small plastic spring loaded clamps. Regular wood or plastic clothes pins are nearly useless to hang laundry or towels and disappear with exasperating regularity over the side.

    Just off my bow is a C&C 30. The lady skipper, in Pacific NW tradition, tows her dinghy. Not only that, she tows two dinghies, one nested atop the other. One for sailing, and one for rowing and for the kids. I'm not sure this would work in a San Pablo Bay ebb against wind. But it works for her.
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    Last edited by sleddog; 07-29-2013 at 08:09 AM.

  3. #503
    Join Date
    Sep 2007
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    Capitola,CA
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    Though I'd rather be writing about sailing adventures, the Sunday Texada Farmers Market was a treat. About 50 locals began lining up early at their favorite vendors. At noon a bell rang and selling began. The supply of eggs were gone in three minutes. I was third in line at the bakers and got the last loaf of homemade raisin bread. Everyone was in good humor, and this was the weekly meeting of the island tribe.

    Doing a landslide business were five kids, ages 7-11, selling their homemade cookies (soft ginger, coconut,) rice crispy and p-nut butter bars, and candy kabobs. According to the parents, the kids had kept accounting for all their ingredients, and knew exactly what their profits were. I asked them how much they had taken in. The money kid with the tin can said immediately, “$25 dollars!”

    The only farmers not represented at the Farmers Market were the pot growers. Apparently “Texada Gold” is highly prized in the industry, and “Gro-Ops” are common. Seven or fewer plants may be grown for medicinal use. I saw one small pot garden in the front yard three doors down from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police station.

    After the Farmers Market, we circumnavigated the northern half of Texada by road. Saw no other cars in 15 miles. Did see some unique homes. One individual, the “gopher guy with a tunneling fetish,” had built a 12 sided home. Under every room he had tunneled and dug out subterranean chambers. The tailings became terraces above his home. He had apparently struck a fossil trove under the bedroom.

    I returned to Turtle Lake. All were accounted for. I saw my friend the swimming garter snake, the aerobatic kingfishers, the promiscuous dragonflys. A bald eagle and I startled each other. In a matter of two weeks, the tadpoles had become small green frogs with red protruding eyes. I did not see the rare and endangered spiny stickleback fish (swim vertically), nor the western painted turtles.
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  4. #504
    Join Date
    Dec 2011
    Location
    Santa Cruz
    Posts
    108

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    OK!
    You got me! You know I am a sucker for small cars, and you included a pic of one without an explanation.
    I need to know more.
    <H>

  5. #505
    Join Date
    Jan 2013
    Location
    Reno, NV
    Posts
    17

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    Howard that looks like one of those scooters that you can get for free from the "Scooter Store" Must be the "All Weather Version"... You may qualify. Call Now.

  6. #506
    Join Date
    Sep 2007
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    Capitola,CA
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    The gods must be laughing. Farley Mowat, the author of Never Cry Wolf, would have a field day: My engine part has arrived in Powell River and been retrieved at the dealership by my mechanic. It is only a ferry ride away. Shortly after, the ferry rammed the dock, taking out the pilings and gangway, and closing down the ferry system. Texada is cut off. The engine part and mechanic are apparently stranded on the other side.

    No sympathy from my German single handed neighbor. She discovered the fuel dock at Gorge Harbor filled her chartered Beneteau 39's diesel tank with gas.

    There must be some puckering in the Transpac Race delivery fleet about now: Tropical Storm “Flossie” (who thinks of these names?) is affecting the Hawaiian chain and making a bee line for Maui. Capt. Bob, at Sunset Beach, Oahu, was scheduled to have their home tented and fumigated. The Terminix crew decided discretion was in order and canceled before setting up their acre sized tent in the path of Flossie.

    Frog acts in mysterious ways. My attention was diverted by the putt putt arrival of a blue Piver “Nimble” trimaran. “Rough and ready” would be a compliment to this tri, paint peeling, and launched 50 years ago from a backyard in Victoria. Today, her crew had discovered a leak in the muffler. Practical solution? They decided they didn't need no stinkin' muffler.

    On the other end of the scale, and the other side of the dock, was the arrival of CORSAIR I, a beautiful power yacht and family heirloom, built in 1930. She is kept in a boathouse in Vancouver and brought out on special occasion. Her varnish was glistening in the afternoon sun.
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    Last edited by sleddog; 07-30-2013 at 12:49 PM.

  7. #507
    Join Date
    Jan 2013
    Location
    Reno, NV
    Posts
    17

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    Wow - I'll sacrifice another chicken to try and appease the gods for you. I'm so sorry to hear your continued dilemma. On another note - is that a stove pipe sticking out of the house top on the old Tri?

  8. #508
    Join Date
    Sep 2007
    Location
    Capitola,CA
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    Tues. 7/30/13

    Engine running!

    The mechanic appeared this morning at 0700. In 10 minutes he had the new carburetor installed. No joy. Same symptoms: smoke, engine would race, but not idle. We scratched our heads. I suggested we try my reserve 3 gallon tank and hose. Engine started right up.

    I thought back to that windy morning, July 13, leaving Nanaimo. I had pulled in to the fuel dock to top off my 5 gallon reserve jerry jug. Fending off the boat, I handed the attendant the half empty, 5 gallon, red gasoline jerry jug and said “fill it with gas for my outboard, please.” He returned a few minutes later and said, “ you said gas, right?”

    I confirmed. He said, “ I accidentally put the diesel nozzle in your jug, but didn't pull the trigger.

    Here apparently was cause of the developing problem. The fuel dock attendant, likely not wanting to deal with the impossible task of disposing of five gallons of contaminated gas, fibbed and had mistakenly put three gallons of diesel in my reserve gas jerry jug.

    My mistake was 1) being distracted by the boat's position, and not filling the jug myself, and 2) believing the attendant's assertion he had not pulled the diesel trigger.

    The cause of the engine woes was the difficult to detect, but simple fact I was running a diesel/gasoline blend in my gas outboard. I now own a spare carburetor.

    It took most of the morning to purge the hoses, the tank and jug of bad fuel. An expensive lesson, but lesson nevertheless: confirm what fuel you are putting into one's tanks. Mea Culpa.

  9. #509
    Join Date
    Sep 2007
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    Capitola,CA
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    WILDFLOWER and I depart early tomorrow for points north: Surge Narrows, Maurelle Island, Okisollo Channel, and Octopus Islands. The forecast is for variable winds becoming SE, 10-15. Off the wind conditions.

    I will miss Texada Island, Van Anda village, and Texada Boat Club at Sturt Bay. The locals have been welcoming, friendly, helpful beyond measure. I can't think of any time in my life I have experienced such care.

    Maggie, the harbor master ("wharfinger"), presented me with a jar of homemade blackberry jam as a departure present..."please come back," she said.

    As a sailing present to all who care about such things, I attach three photos of MENTOR II, at anchor nearby. She is the prettiest thing I've seen, a 45' ketch, timber, designed by Bruce King, and built in 1977-1980 by one person over three years.

    For a moment, I thought MENTOR II was an L. Francis Herreshoff design. She is that pretty. But she goes L. Francis one better: tall masts, modern underbody, and the sweetest stern you will ever see.

    I'll write when I can. It may be a few days. Internet ahead is decidedly scarce.
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    Last edited by sleddog; 07-30-2013 at 07:42 PM.

  10. #510
    Join Date
    Sep 2007
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    Capitola,CA
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    7/31

    With light headwinds, the 29 miles from Sturt Bay to Manson's Landing, Cortez Island, passed pleasantly. Coasting the white sand beaches of Savary Island, WILDFLOWER entered Desolation Sound The engine purred, using 1.5 gallons for the distance, about the same mileage as my mini-van. The only obstacle was a gaggle of Ranger Tugs racing to leave their convention at Gorge Harbor. The combined wake of a dozen Rangers trying and failing to get up on a plane was enough to make me ring for the slow bell.

    After 5.5 hours, I anchored in my favorite place at Mansons, in 15 feet of water at the entrance to the tidal lagoon. Chickens were audible, clucking 50 yards astern. The snowy peaks of Vancouver Island were visible, 30 miles to the west.

    Just when I had everything stowed, and thought I might crack a book, in came the afternoon's entertainment: a 70', deep green, spankin' new motor yacht named SINGLE MALT. Ms. Malt was on the foredeck, anxiously fingering her anchor remote. Was she really single? I couldn't tell. But she was good operating the down button of the windlass, and the shiny stainless anchor and a many feet of chain disappeared into the deep green water, which pretty much matched the hull color.

    Ms. Malt was apparently not single. From some invisible corner, a male voice on a speaker boomed, “is it on the bottom?” Ms. Malt peered over the bow. The shiny chain was vertical, just missing the bulb bow. Ms. Malt shrugged. As if by magic, the chain started up and Ms. Malt disappeared into a door on the upper deck.

    SINGLE MALT kept edging closer, the anchor and chain going up and down several times with no one in attendance. Finally, they anchored right alongside, let out 200' in 15 feet of depth, gave the engine a goose astern, and called it good, apparently not concerned the yellow/green water depth didn't match their topside color..

    I still hadn't seen Mr. Malt. But someone was pushing buttons. Out of nowhere appeared a hoist. It lifted a good size RIB dinghy, nearly the length of WILDFLOWER, and deposited it into the water. Look Ma, no hands. Must be nice. It takes me most of the morning to get WILDFLOWER launched. SINGLE MALT did it in three minutes with no visible crew.

    Their RIB lay alongside for the rest of the afternoon. Apparently Ms. Malt was busy cleaning the freezer. A dozen discarded frozen strawberries floated by.

    With a forecast for SE 15-25 for later tonight, I pulled anchor and headed for Gorge Harbor, three miles west. Avoiding 54 Ranger tugs still at the Marina, I tucked into the west end of landlocked Gorge Harbor, in 18' of water, secure for the huffing and puffing, rain, thunder and lightning electrical show that blew up from the south after sunset. 50-06 N x 125-02 W
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    Last edited by sleddog; 08-05-2013 at 01:52 PM.

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