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Thread: New Boat 4 Sled

  1. #891
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    Quote Originally Posted by sleddog View Post
    CLOUD's photo of Roca Partida is also interesting. To think this 300', 3.5 acre rock comes up vertically from the depths. You could whimsically put your fenders out and raft up to Roca Partida on a calm day....
    I'm not sure there's anything close to 300' above water and 3.5 acres remaining today. It takes about 45 minutes to swim completely around under water. Roca Partida is quite literally out in the open ocean out of sight of any other "land." This photo gives some sense of the ocean swells on one of our dive days.

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    Tom
    CLOUD

  2. #892
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    Quote Originally Posted by Dazzler View Post
    I'm not sure there's anything close to 300' above water and 3.5 acres remaining today. It takes about 45 minutes to swim completely around under water. Roca Partida is quite literally out in the open ocean out of sight of any other "land." This photo gives some sense of the ocean swells on one of our dive days.
    Tom
    CLOUD
    Thanks, DAZZLER!

    It is apparent Roca Partida is being eroded, and in another 100 years may not be above water at all. The 1953 survey, quoted by Lee Lewis in his OP 1971 Baja Sea Guide, measured Roca Partida thus:

    "Roca Partida, 100 metres (300 ft) long and 8 metres (26 ft) wide, rises into two peaks. A low-lying bare rock area divides these two peaks, hence the name "Parted Rock." The two peaks measured 25 metres (82 ft) and 34 metres (112 ft) high in 1953, but the higher peak apparently lost several meters (feet) since then, as the photographs illustrate."

  3. #893
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    Avalon, Catalina Island, is a favorite harbor for New Year's revelers. But in strong NE winds Avalon turns into an open roadstead with a 26 mile fetch to the mainland. Enough distance for wind and seas to become knarly, as they did last night when multiple boats were washed ashore and 2 lives lost.

    Hard to believe in this day and age of instantaneous weather reports.
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    Last edited by sleddog; 01-13-2015 at 07:43 PM.

  4. #894
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    Tom, is that Perry's INBOX?

  5. #895
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    Quote Originally Posted by BobJ View Post
    Tom, is that Perry's INBOX?
    It's the same design (with a few modifications), but not INBOX. It's the 3rd Far Harbour 39, custom built in Maine.

    Tom
    CLOUD

  6. #896
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    For those who have read the wonderful book "Boys in the Boat," Stan Pocock, master boat builder and son of legendary George Pocock, was honored yesterday with a memorial rowout and spreading of ashes at the 2,000 meter "Finish Line" in Montlake Cut, offshore of the University of Washington George Pocock crewhouse.

    http://www.kirotv.com/news/news/coac...l-servi/njfyf/

    From Stan Pocock's Remembrance:

    Stan Pocock’s accomplishments in the rowing world abound. There is evidence of his handiwork across the country, from fiberglass racing shells (1956) to Olympic gold medals (1956 and 1960) to oarlock spacers (1981). Stan did more than just leave a path of amazing innovations and objects; he left an indelible mark on all the athletes he coached, the men and women he worked with, and the young athletes he inspired. To many, he was a mentor, a coach, a craftsman, and a legend. To us, at the George Pocock Rowing Foundation, he was a visionary and a philanthropist who gave everything he accomplished back to the rowing community.

    Before he ended his boat making career, Stan became one of the founders of the George Pocock Rowing Foundation and helped nurture it into existence. Ten years later after working hard to garner support and funding, he with several close friends, completed construction of the George Pocock Memorial Rowing Center.

    A humble man by nature, Stan was not always comfortable with the Pocock name being so prominent and public in the Foundation and the Memorial Rowing Center. However much he disregarded praise and fame, he was liberal with encouragement and inspiration to others. In the last several years, Stan could be seen often around the boathouse. He gave speeches at junior banquets, celebrated student-athlete awards, shook hands with the young men and women of the Center, and smiled as he reminisced with the Ancient Mariners Rowing Club.

    It gave Stan great joy to see so many young people learn to row and thrive in the environment of the boathouse. The vision for the Pocock Rowing Center was blossoming as Stan lived and it shall live on. “Now, my earnest desire is that the quality of the eventual product of this center – the community-oriented rowing projects that we envision – will be known and celebrated for generations to come.”

    Today, as we think about the amazing man that Stan Pocock was, our hearts are both saddened and uplifted in his memory. Stan made sure that the very soul of this sport would carry on past his own lifetime. And now, ever with his spirit and guidance, we are seeking to carry that out.

    In the final pages of his memoirs, Stan describes one of the most treasured rows of his career and in the same breath expresses his desire to pass on those amazing experiences: “I knew that I had just experienced something that might never happen again. I had lost myself and, in the process, had truly found myself. I had had a fleeting glimpse of the divine… I wanted people who rowed for me, at least once, to have the thrill of that one moment.”

    Row On, Stan
    Last edited by sleddog; 01-04-2015 at 05:38 PM.

  7. #897
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    Landing bow first on the small patch of sand, the Mexican panga driver deftly backed and filled between rocky outcroppings and 4' wave sets, allowing us to unload 7 bags and 200 pounds of gear at Yelapa's "Isabel's Beach."

    The flight from SFO to Puerto Vallarta was an airborne treat, as we followed the California Coast southward, crossing over to the Sea of Cortez just south of the Border. From 30,000', whitehorses were visible below, the product of persistent winter north winds that extend the 800 mile length of the Gulf of California. I remembered back all those days spent at anchor at Los Frailes, waiting for a weather window to sail WILDFLOWER north into the Sea of Cortez.

    From Puerto Vallarta to Yelapa, and hour's ride by panga-taxi, is usually an E-ticket ride. The panga driver asked us to don lifejackets, seedy looking things, and luckily there were not enough to go around for the 25 passengers.

    2 x 200 horsepower outboards pushed the 30' panga at 25 knots in the leftover swell from the northerly blowing offshore in the Gulf. Luckily, as the passengers began to become airborne off their seats, the panga driver stopped to siphon from a fresh jug of gas by sucking on a 2" diameter hose.

    As I wrote a year ago in post #592, page 60, one does not necessarily travel to Mexico to seek adventure. Adventure comes to you. A reminder there is another world that is not California. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pD_yQZ4iNjY
    Last edited by sleddog; 01-08-2015 at 05:36 AM.

  8. #898
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    The passage to Alaska has been paddled by native canoes since time immemorial, sailing craft for centuries, and after gold was discovered in the Klondike the route was jammed with steamboats full of prospectors elbowing each other out of the way for the promise of fortune.

    In the spirit of tradition, exploration, and self-reliance, the Race to Alaska was born by Jake Beattie, Executive Director of Port Townsend's Northwest Maritime Center. Jake's R2AK, starting 5 a.m., June 4, off Port Townsend's waterfront, is the first of its kind on the Pacific Coast, and North America’s longest human and wind powered race: 750 miles to Ketchikan, Alaska.

    The R2AK is based on simplicity that SSS members could appreciate. BWYG. "Bring What You Got." No engines aboard, no supply drops, totally self supported. First prize is $10,000. Second place wins a set of steak knives.

    Entries with fertile and/or deranged minds are already prepping. Rowers, kayakers, sailors. Some think a trimaran with oars would have the best chance. But rowing a multi-hull in predominant light headwinds and foul currents is a questionable proposition.

    What is known is the winners, likely a crew of 2 or 3, will probably run nonstop, depending on tide gates like Seymour Narrows, where max current runs at 12 knots with ship eating whirlpools. Local knowledge will help, as there are numerous back eddies, short cuts, and places to hide out if things turn foul or short rest is required.

    As well as type of craft, skill and endurance, luck will also play a big part in the R2AK. Not including tugs towing barges, there's plenty of things to run into. If you are zipping along in your F-27 tri on a dark night, or in fog, and run into a half submerged log, things won't go well.

    Though Russell Brown, innovative Port Townsend designer, builder, and sailor, does not agree, my pick for R2AK winner would be a 3 man kayak with a small shelter for sleeping and room for supplies. Water refills can be found along the route, and the advantage of facing forward when underway may outweigh the greater speed potential of rowing.

    What would Russell Brown pick as his tool for the R2AK?. Fun speculation is in the air at http://racetoalaska.com/
    Last edited by sleddog; 01-13-2015 at 02:30 PM.

  9. #899
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    Casa Santa Cruz, in Yelapa, needed new safety railings. The old rope strung between steel pipe stanchions was worn out because of UV. I hiked 10 minutes to Yelapa Pueblo, down the narrow cobblestone street, being careful to avoid the sleeping dogs. The ferretia (hardware store) had the rope I needed: universal Third World yellow and black polypropylene. It's light, it's cheap, it floats. And, unlike West Marine, the rope at Yelapa's ferretia is sold by the kilo.

    Walking back to Casa Santa Cruz, I remembered as kids we weren't even allowed into our dinghies without being able to demonstrate basic knot tying ability: bowline, half hitches, clove hitch, sheet bend, and figure eight.

    These days, knot tying skills are less emphasized. With today's hi-tech, slippery, dyneema and spectra ropes, knots not only slip, but drastically weaken the line. Two half hitches reportedly slip at 15% of Breaking Strength, a bowline at 22% of BS. The best knot for tying an eye in singlebraid dyneema may no longer be the bowline, but as Commodore Tompkins' half jokingly suggests, the “rolling half tangle.”

    As kids we also had to learn an eyesplice in 3 strand rope. Except for dock lines, 3 strand isn't used much these days. A new type of splicing hi-tech line is favored over knot tying. A splice in spectra doesn't slip, and retains 90-100% of the original strength of the line.

    I still enjoy knots. But am having to relearn splicing techniques, or pay the rigger $15 to do it for me.

    Back at Casa Santa Cruz, splicing the new 3-strand polypro guard rails was the order of the day. Not a bad job, while watching humpback whales cavort offshore. http://www.yelapafun.com/
    Last edited by sleddog; 01-19-2015 at 10:39 AM.

  10. #900
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    What I wrote last year at this time was replayed yesterday: As we bounced along at 20 knots in our Puerto Vallarta bound panga, 23 passengers couldn't avoid becoming airborne. Nothing to hang onto, except maybe our memories of Yelapa. No saddlehorn, no seatbelts. Definitely no lifejackets.

    Yelapa. It's been an enjoyable three week, 21 act play, with a constant changing cast of characters, warm tortillas fresh from the tortilleria, and the best passion fruit margaritas and seafood pasta imaginable at Tacos y Mas.

    Getting out of Puerto Vallarta is akin to this Saturday's 3 Bridge Fiasco. You don't quite know where you're going, or what lies ahead when you get there.

    My non-stop flight to SFO began at Airport Security. The Mexican preflight safety inspection was just as bogus as when I left San Francisco. The X-Ray girl's attention to my seabag was piqued by a plastic urinal filled with dirty socks. I was taken aside and asked to empty my carry on luggage. The young inspector gingerly held up the urinal, looked at my me, looked at my urinal, raised his eyebrows, and asked to see my passport. He then emptied my shaving kit, and confiscated my Gorilla Tape, dental floss, and miniature scissors. I maintained my cool and pointed out the scissors were well below the maximum 4" length allowed and had a blunted point as required. The inspector said I could check them. Was I really going to hike three city blocks back to the Alaska Air counter to check in a pair of scissors and some floss?

    After being relieved of my hi-jack weapons, but no "chem wipe" as at SFO, I went in search of somewhere to refill my water bottle. I might as well have been looking for water on the moon. The employees at the airport restaurants and stores looked at me like I was crazy, and said I had to buy a bottle of water. A nice man directed me to a men's room, where I awkwardly filled my bottle through the motion activated water tap.

    Arriving at Gate 12, I was ready to relax. I heard my name being called on the loudspeaker. Apparently I had not followed procedure and had to show airline personnel my passport and freshly minted boarding pass. This was not without incident, as my backpack capsized on the floor and the water bottle top came loose, flooding the floor.

    The homeward bound flight was fine except for the crying baby, and the couple in adjacent seats arguing over details of their new home. The wife finally said, coolly, "I'm not speaking with you anymore." I just stared out the window at Catalina passing below.

    U.S. Immigration went smoothly, but almost didn't. The nice man asked "how long were you in Mexico?"

    "3 weeks," I answered.

    His next question floored me: "What did you do every day?"

    I almost reached down for my Logbook to read from 10 handwritten pages of "what I did every day." But remembering the water bottle incident at PV, I decided the better of it, and looked the officer in the eye, and said, "Nothing, that's what you do in Mexico. Nothing."

    He looked at me, said "Oh, right," and waved me on, back into the U.S.of A.
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    Last edited by sleddog; 01-28-2015 at 03:26 PM.

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