Inside the mind of a sleep deprived Weave...

We left last Wed, May 29th, and arrived June 7th.

Thoughts. We'll be in Monterey for some time due to bad weather, so this is long, so sorry if you wanted sound bites, there's only long drawn out stuff here.

I should say first, in particular for those concerned family and friends, that the Albin Vega is a remarkably seaworthy boat, and at no time did the boat fail us. It was built well, was in decent shape (for 35 yr old boat), and performed exceptionally. I marveled at how such a small boat could kick so much ass in rough conditions. In short, noting' to worry bout' man.

Note: There was a posting on the Albin Vega Association Website re "creaking wood", particularly in the kitchen, when heeling. I experienced this wood creaking for 10 days and can assure you that a) it's normal, or (b) we both need to re-glue our wood paneling. I would also be interested in other "Vegatarians" experience.

First couple days: Spent going back into Canada at Pender Island so we could cross BACK into the States to get a "cruising permit" for Hawaii. If you aren't US citizens you HAVE to arrive in Hawaii from a foreign port to obtain a cruising permit for the islands.

So, went to Pender, checked in, then went to Roche Harbor (San Juans) and checked back into US Customs, who of course didn't think that was suspicious at all, but searched our boat anyway. "So how much weed are you importing, gentlemen?" Our only real contraband included 1) 8 Tylenol 3's (that codene is corrupting Americas youth!), BUT, the 80 cans of Okanagan Spring Beer, 3 bottles of wine and 3 bottles of rum were considered essential, and therefore not dutified. The officer was great, actually, but said we were crazy.
Also got to see some classic yuppie coastal cruisers, my favorite being the faux french "chapeau" wearing West Van girl with her dorky boyfriend on his dad's 50 footer. I wrapped my sweater around my neck and pulled my socks as high as they would go, but she remained unimpressed. Maybe size DOES matter? (Boat size, perverts)

Next stop was Port Angeles and following day a work day, then left around 3pm and motored through the night to Neah Bay and started sailing. Marine store operator and gas attendant both said we were crazy.

Interview with the dolphin: My first night offshore was more than a little freaky. You cannot see 10 feet in front of you and have to go by the GPS. Lots of container traffic. Winds picked up off the Cape , we sailed for much of the day, then they died just in time for my first solo night watch. I was freaked out, lying on my back trying to catch any wind we could, forecast was variable to 5 knots (Hawaii here we come!!). It was freezing, no sound, and swell was rocking the boat every 30 seconds...very annoying. I became delusional, starting to think about possibility of a Moby Dick experience, then thoughts veering to the potential for maybe a mentally handicapped whale wanting to rub up against the prop of our motor, flipping the boat, and sending me into the freezing water, etc., with my imagination finally resting on Interview with the Vampire and the Lost boys ie. Vampires flying out of the air and plucking me from the cockpit, and promptly dumping me in the freezing water. Yup, you guessed it, i didn't want to go in the water.
The first dolphin that came up and took some air right beside my head made me jump and nearly scared me off the other side of the boat. I thought it might be Tom Cruise and L Ron Hubbard swooping for a little conversion to Scientology, and of course dumping me overboard if i resisted. "I believe it, humans descended from Aliens" i screamed. The dolphins ridiculed me, making their clicking noises as if to say "you descended from Apes stupid! Tom's insane, didn't you see him on Oprah. Now don't even get us started on Intelligent design!" Smart ass f&^%ing dolphin. "Now start enjoying our presence. Humans love this shit. Marvel at how bizarrely intelligent we ARE! Did you know our brains are as big as yours? I'll bet your dog knows nothing of evolution." The sarcastic buggers harassed me for over 30 minutes, splashed me a few times, and then booked it. They were right, though, I needed to toughen up, and the potential newspaper headlines of "man drowns after being scared off his boat by dolphin" didn't sit with me very well. And Tom IS insane.

My First Gale: Being a child of the 80's, "my first sony" is a slogan that elicits a warm fuzzy response of a child with their first stereo, of which my sister was one. I broke her stereo. Irrelevant, i don't know, i broke her Teddy Ruxpin too. What i do know is it might be bad karma, and seeing as Gales are generally unpleasant ensured i will not remember "my first gale" with similar affection. Oh yes, I've been on a sail boat 1, 2..6 times before this trip, never offshore, and never in waves higher than my knees. Sailing experience was 2 days in desolation sound in a much larger boat, and 4 days off Point Roberts in Mr Perfect, learning how to raise a jib, the main, tie bowline knots...the basics.
Upon entering Oregon we were greeted by another awesome and inconsistent forecast. The wind was forcast to be 20 to 30 knots, with frequent gusts up to 35. "Iron Mike", as the robot forecast voice is allegedly known, was starting to get on my nerves. Winds were so far either under 10 and variable, or now a f&*^ing gale. Thanks Mike.

Given my nighttime watch issues so far, the gale was at least nice enough to pick up BEFORE dark, but then really got moving just as Rich went to bed. From 11pm to 3am i held onto the tiller for dear life, rain whipping like hail pellets, 12 ft waves crashing into the cockpit and, oh yeah, the wind was out of the SW (we needed to go South) so i had to beat into the wind as best I could. The waves would every once and a while crash so hard, beam on, that they would force a jibe and i would have to gather enough momentum to turn BACK up wind to get back on the right tack. Awesome. The wind died down just as Rich was coming on watch to he could head straight into the waves and ensure all i heard, while trying to sleep, was what i perceived to be the bow splitting in two as we headed straight upwind. I had heard that Oregon was notoriously rough, and had now decided that I would just hate Oregon without reservation for the rest of my life. I wanted nothing more than to just get California where, undoubtedly, the sun would be shining and the weather much improved. I felt like i was in the Oklahoma dustbowl holding one of those leaflets re farm work in California. To Nor Cal!!

California: Man i was right, Cali does rock. We crossed about 1 in the morning, and the first two days of sailing were what i thought sailing was supposed to be. Fun. Beutifull view of the coast, and less sarcastic dolphins swam with the boat for quite a long time, in the morning, and then said "have fun down South, stupid." What were they telling me? Man they're smart.

As irony would have its way, upon reaching the coast off "Eureka" California, Iron Mike had some more bad news. For the next 200 miles it was forecast 20 to 25, gusting to 30, then 30 to 35, frequently gusting 40-45 the next. The wind WAS coming from the NW however, but the winds had already been blowing that hard further north for a couple of days, so the swell was going to be a LOT bigger. First thought...man I loved Oregon.

Next 48 hrs were...uncomfortable. As the wind picked up, the waves got back to the familiar 12ft, but were easier to handle because it was all downwind. Then they grew, 20ft, 22-25 in the end.

Note: I love the mountains, the hard, rocky kind that i can rip down on my bike in summer, skis in winter. However, the water variety are decidedly less accommodating, and rarely are they any fun. You can surf them sometimes, which is cool, but the big ones would rather see you surf sideways, which is...unnn cool.

There's nothing quit like a mountain, that you loathe and despise, coming at you every 30 seconds or so, for 28hrs, the odd one making the sun feel irrelevant to your warmth because it soaked you with frigid water. All you could do was reef the rudder one side to the other just as you would crest over a wave, trying to brake on top of it so as not to surf down. Looking for openings became a new sport for me, and after 1 hr of it i thought to myself "hey, i am getting pretty good, i could do this all night, it's at least been 4 hrs, right?" Bloody hell, that was a long day/night.
We bobbed up and down like a cork in a bathtub, watching the odd container ship (we were close to San Fran, so shipping was busy) go in and out of site because of the waves. At night i had our spotlight on the sails often, as you had to concentrate so hard on steering in the waves you would forget to look for ships. Neither of us slept, deciding to stick it out together. Rich had to do stuff all the time anyway, like streaming four 50ft ropes and a 40ft chain off the back to slow us down. Changing the jib and reefing the main in such conditions was a lot of fun too, but luckily we did it all before the monsters arrived.

San Fran area it got even worse. We could not go ashore anywhere either because all the ports had tiny entrance ways (the San Fran "bar" would have been suicidal), and you don't want to be near a rocky coast in those winds, so we had to keeping heading South. The next forecast area called for winds in the 40-45 range, and bigger swell. I wished Iron Mike were a human, so i could find him and kick his ass.

Monterey Bay: Entering was by sailing across monstrous swell on Saturday morning. The wind had died to 25-30, but the swell was absolutely HUGE, as if time stood still. Completely surreal. We would sail across a wave for at least 10 seconds before it fully passed us.

Monterey Bay was calmer, relative to the madness further out, but we saw no sailboats out for fun till we got within a mile of shore. We were welcomed on the dock by a gent from Monterey who, also owning a Vega, had been following us on the "spot" and knew all about the weather we had been in. He even offered us use of his car. What a WELCOME! That's been our experience so far with all locals (there are mostly tourists, however, but have met many locals), people are overtly friendly. Nice change from bad weather.

Today we are going to the aquarium. I am going to solve this shark and yellow question once and for all!
The weather is also not supposed to improve for some time, so we will probably get to know the area better than we had originally intended. The gales continue and will be offshore till at least Friday, forcast so far anyway, and not by Mike the prick.

Thoughts on the intrepid captain: My life was in his hands, plain and simple. Rich performed like i thought he would, and it's why i decided to trust him so completely with this trip. His sail change decisions, course, precision steering, "on the go" repairs (including our new best friend, the Navik wind vane), and just general demeanor evoked as much confidence and security in me as i was capable of feeling. When that failed, the rum came to the rescue.
Rich is a brilliant and fearless sailor, hands down. I was brave too, once i knew the boat wasn't going to sink all the time, but only because of Rich, his confidence and assured decision making. I am in awe of his abilities.

Popular Weaver quotes:
"Hey Rich, how do you work the E-Pirb again?"
"Hey Rich, could you pass me the rum?
Like Joey from the show "Blossom", i busted out more than a few "Wo", "Wo".
"Hey Rich, is that sound normal?" "How thick is the fiberglass?" "Tell me how well made Vega is, again"
"What's the worst thing you think can happen, right now?"
"F&^% you Mike"