Engine, meet Village Girl

Saturday  22 June 2019
Comox, British Columbia
0630: 5.6 kilometer walk from Comox to designated parking lot in Courtney to catch shuttle from Courtney/Comox to Nanaimo.
0840: Boarded shuttle
1045: Ferry from Nanaimo to Horse Shoe Bay, north of Vancouver
1230: Number 257 bus to downtown Vancouver. Allowed on by driver despite having incorrect and insufficient change.
1300: Decended underground in central Vancouver to catch a train to the airport.
1400: After having ridden the wrong line for a stop and at long last finding the correct line the airport appeared.
1530: After taking with four airport employees, waking the length of both the domestic and international terminals, and one over-priced taxi the Alaska Airlines cargo office is found. It was cleverly disguised as a Swissport office about a quarter mile from the airport. I was handed customs paperwork and told that the office only handles perishables on weekends,  but I should try to have the paperwork signed off anyways.
1600: Back at the international terminal in the airport customs office with papers and passport in hand.  With the explanation of the race, getting blown out of Johnstone Strait, landing in Comox, and the sincere promise that the engine will be taken immediately out of the country again I emerged from the perishables customs office, blue-stamped papers in hand.
1700: With help from the crew in the cargo office I collected the engine, restrapped it since its rainbow luggage strap went missing in transit, loaded it on the hand trolley I bought in Campbell River and began the long, slow, teetering roll back to the train station. The cargo office helped me carry the engine and its wooden crate down the stairs and sent me off with prefect directions for finding the bus back to Horse Shoe Bay. By this time I was aware that I might be spending the night on the mainland.
1800: The perfect directions got me to the exact intersection and side of the street to catch bus 257 back north. The bus sat there loading evening commuters as I trundled up with my 70+ pound box. At first the driver looked as though he weren't going to let me on. A taxi would have cost over $60 and that didn't appeal. Reluctantly and likely because I looked like I had good control of my giant wooden crate I was allowed on and even given preferential seating with the condition that I keep control of the box at all times.
1830: The hard part done!  The final bus ride was my only concern and I was relived as a fellow passenger helped lift the box out of the bus. I declared my "dangerous goods" at the ferry terminal, bought my ticket, and rolled onto the ferry on the same level as the bicycles and cars.
1915: Ferry from HSB to Nanaimo. I was disappointed to realized that the BC Ferries don't sell alcohol on board. Sigh.
2100: Arrived in Nanaimo, found hotel, took taxi, checked in, and for the first time in 11 hours ate. The restaurant next to the hotel offered a discount to hotel guests. I was so hungry I even finished the complementary salad. Chicken burger, 20-ounce local lager and a bloody Mary for dessert.
2230: Sleep

Sunday 23 June
Nanaimo
0800: Alarm. My first thought was,  "Alex didn't wake me. Am I suppose to be on watch?" I slept soundly and woke confused. All cleared soon.
0900: Waffles at continental breakfast!
0945: I called the same taxi company as the night before and explained the giant box situation. They sent their wheelchair accessible van and I rolled the whole shebang right into the back. Easiest manoeuvre in two days!
1045: After having booked a "bicycle box" for the shuttle there was plenty of space to load up.
1215: Arrived in Courtney/Comox, called taxi with the request for a big car and was dropped off at the Comox fisherman's wharf with Alex waiting to help unload and roll the box down the dock to  Village Girl.
1300: Engine mounted and tank filled, Gerry jugs filled, and VG ready to leave any time. The trolly driver requested refreshment and was treated by the fearless captain Whitworth to a pint.
Arms bruised, belly filled,  and the adventure continues.
Our friend Carla said that after the race having our engine will look like the Mona Lisa. We've since dubbed our Yamaha 2.5hp "Mota Lisa."

Home again with Mota Lisa

R2AK 2019 Wingnuts Out

Alex and I  tried again, made it farther,  and dropped out with dignity intact. We sat in Otter Cove at the north end of Discovery Passage for three days making runs around the corner into Johnstone Strait. Trial one gave us 15 knots and lumpy seas with the expectation of it building fast. We about-faced and ducked back into shelter. We tried again later under calmer winds only to have missed the tide and had difficulty making headway. Number three made the decision for us. With 25 knots of headwind and the full force of the current with us we ploughed through a series of standing waves which dumped water into the cockpit. We turned around to run with the 25 knots, but against the current and met another series of standing waves. We fell sideways off a face and landed on our side in the trough.  We both stayed in the boat and we sailed carefully and very slowly against the full force of the Inside Passage to the first dock we saw. We landed and clung on. It was a private dock,  but the caretaker was happy to see it being used and gave us permission to stay.

Our track of the three runs

Most everything was secured and stayed in place down below. A few loose books and my toothbrush were found opposite where they usually lived. That night we were slammed against the dock by swells coming down from the north and we were awake all night adjusting lines and fenders to keep the floating dock from landing on top of Village Girl.

By morning Team R2Ache passed us going north and Team Angry Beaver who won the race a week before sailed past us going south. We did the math and realized that the winds would need to work with us perfectly for the following 12 days in order to beat the Grim Sweeper (sweeper boat whose job it is to catch and disqualify.) We wouldn't be able to make the mileage so we bowed out for a second time.

The morning of Sunday June 16 we caught a south-flowing current and made it into Brown Bay with the help of a tug boat captain named Lundquist. Minutes after leaving the rollercoaster dock that morning we crossed paths with Team You Do Stuff or You Don't, the last boat in the fleet. It was an open gaff-rigger with one crew member. A few hours after our crossing he was pulled safely from the water by a local fishing boat. It is unknown whether his boat was lost after the swamping. Alex and I suspect he met the same standing waves which  send us running for safety.

Similarly Team Holopuni in a Hawaiian style canoe was rescued by the Canadian Coast Guard early this morning in Dickson Entrance near Ketchikan. They abandon their boat, but from their latest update the tracker is still working and they are planning a salvage.

Teams Wingnuts and Holopuni at the start in Port Townsend

Wingnuts ringing the bell in Victoria after stage 1

Bobbles and Village Girl

Alex and I dropped out the Race to Alaska in 2018 because we snapped the rudder off of Bobbles in Georgia strait during 25 knot winds and 5-foot following swells. It was an annoyance. Wayne Gorrie a previous winner of the coveted steak knives stood on the dock back in Nanaimo as we arrived under tow asking,  "What do you need? " We were rudderless and taking on water. Within 30 minutes Wayne had arranged for a boat lift and Bobbles hung suspended in a sling as we tried to find the source of the leak and survey the rudder damage.

The rudder was irrepairable and we found the leak to be a hairline fracture in the centerboard case which flexed open whenever the centerboard twisted letting water slip in. Tom a local shipwright who worked nearby saw our problem and in about two hours had made a new rudder out of a solid piece of yellow cedar.

The crack was a bigger problem. The centerboard itself was waterlogged, delaminated, and mushy. We unbolted it and the two of us left it by the dumpster as it was too heavy to lift in. Over the next few days we worked to convert the centerboard case to house a daggerboard which could be lifted out from the top. I fiberglassed the case inside and out while Alex made the new daggerboard from a slab of red cedar.

When all was done we gave our thanks to Wayne, Tom, and John the manager of the boat yard. We launched and sailed off the dock at sunrise  to take the scenic route back to Port Townsend.

Bobbles snuggled between the big boats in Friday harbor