Day 476,477 & 478 Into Newport

Sit back and get something to drink cause this is going to be a long blog post!!!

We're here in Newport, OR after a long 50 hour sail/motor trip South.

We left Neah Bay about 0930 on Tuesday in beautiful skies.  On Monday when we arrived, we barely beat the fog in.  As you can see from the pictures, it was right behind us as we pulled in.  Just about every boat that followed us in came in in a misty vale.  It covered the harbor and then vanished, then back for another shot.  This went on for several hours in the afternoon.  One minutes it beautifully clear and the next--fogged in.  One thing we have noticed is that when the fog rolls in, the temperature drops like a stone.  Once gone, it's nice and warm all over again.

The top photo is of our first sunrise as we headed West out Juan de Fuca Strait.  The waters were beautifully calm for a change.  

The last photo was taken on Tuesday morning as we rounded Tatoosh Island at the West end of Juan de Fuca as we were heading out to sail to Newport.  It was a glorious morning with bright blue skies and a marvelous wind from the Northwest pushing us along beautifully.  We had all our sails up to get as much wind as we could so we would move at Zephyrs maximum speed.  Out came the Genoa and Main and then for fun, we put up the Forestaysail sail to boot.  

As we headed out from Juan de Fuca, Tracy called to me that she saw a whale about 100 feet off the port(left) side of the boat.  We both looked out the side to see if we could see it again--nope.  Suddenly, we heard this "woosh" sound from beside Zephyr.  We looked at each other and then started looking around Zephyr to see what might have made the sound.  Suddenly, there was a Humpback whale not 15 feet from the port side of the boat.  I could have jumped on hers(or his) back she was so close.  We saw her back as she slowly rose right beside Zephyr, her tail still under the keel.  She rolled on her side and stared at us with one dark black eye, then blew again through her blowhole and dove under the boat and was gone.  That's about as close as we ever want to be to a whale, especially a Humpback.  They can grow to anywhere from 39 to over 50 feet and weigh in at over 75,000 pounds.  Now that was cool--scary but cool.

Off we went just having the time of our lives in absolutely perfect wind and seas.  As the day progressed, the wind got stronger and stronger so we finally rolled in the Genoa sail and just had the forestaysail sail and main up and were still moving along at over 7 knots.  As the Sun went down, we just kept on going.  By midnight, the winds had grown to about 35 knots or about 40 miles per hour.  

When you go off shore--or even in shore, it is a cardinal rule that we ALWAYS wear a life jacket, even when we are in the cockpit.  Once we are away from shore, we carry tethers that hook onto the life jacket and are then hooked to what are called "Jack Lines".  These are nylon webbing straps that clip to the bow of the boat and run the length to the stern.  Ours is hooked at the bow to the base plate for the forestaysail sail and then is tied to rings I installed on one of the shrouds(wires that hole the mast up)on each side and then is tied off to the large cleat on the stern.  This way, when ever you leave the cockpit, day or night, you hook your tether to the "Jack Line" and should you fall overboard, you won't go far.  Some books recommend the lines be on deck and some books recommend that they be shoulder high to keep you from tripping on them.  We have set ours up with the straps high along each side of the boat.  It's easier to clip and unclip as you work your way down the deck.   

With the winds being that strong, I clipped on to the "Jack Lines" and made my way to the mast to put a reef in the mainsail(keep in mind, it's about 0100--yeah 1:00 am blowing 30 knots and pitch black).  A mainsail is set up with "reefing points" that can be setup to have the main sail up but in smaller and smaller sections as needed.  Our mainsail has three reefs in it so it can be made quite small but engaging each reefing point in turn as the winds would grow.  This time, we set it up with just the first reef.  Tracy stayed in the cockpit to control the boat and the halyard(line that raises the mainsail)while I worked out on deck.  First, the main halyard that holds the sail up has to be loosened and the sail lowered--not a lot, but still lowered so one of the reefing eyes(straps that are put through grommeted holes in the sail with rings sew in the straps)that are on the sail up near the mast can be attached to big hooks on the boom.  Then the sail is raised but not before the line at the end of the boom that goes through the back end of the mainsail is pulled tight.  This line pulls the back end of the mainsail down and pulls it out so that once the sail is raised, it will still have the right shape to allow it to power your boat(are  we having fun yet?).  Now Zephyr was under control.  We were dead tired but under control--oh, did I tell you there was no moon that night?  It was pitch black.  Apparently, Mother Nature had finally gotten the email that we were out there and she was out to have some fun with us.  Not only did she make it blow, but she continually changed the direction of the wind.  Now ocean sailing is supposed to have winds relatively constant not only in speed but also in direction.  At least that is what the books we have read tell us.  Apparently, this is not the rule along the Washington/Oregon coast line.  We were almost 90 miles off shore and getting thrown around quite a bit.  We finally decided to just take down the forestaysail sail and start the motor and motor sail for a while using the auto pilot to guide the boat.   We were absolutely worn out and that is the time mistakes get made.  the motor was started and out I went(hooked to the "Jack Lines of course) and down came the forestaysail sail.  I hooked the halyard(raises the sail) to one of the cleats at the bow to make sure it didn't fly around on deck in the wind and made my way back to the cockpit--winds still about 35 knots in a pitch black night.  With this done, the auto pilot could be engaged and Zephyr would just motor along on a set course.  We could finally sit back and relax a bit.  It was a long night for both of us.

As dawn arrived--no more Sun of course(thanks Mother Nature).  We had totally overcast skies and that was how it was for the entire day.   Not one bit of Sun broke through the clouds.  We continued on motor sailing as the winds had now dropped down to about 5 to 8 knots and it had shifted to being out of the Southeast--right where we needed to go(thanks Mother Nature).  Every forecast we had had the winds to be coming from the Northwest.  On we went, hour after hour of gray skies and the drone of the motor.  We took time out to catch a few hours of sleep as the day progressed yet one of us was always on deck in the cockpit keeping watch for other ships and fishing boats.  We had our AIS(Automatic Identification System) running on our computer screen, but that only shows you really big boats.  Being over 90 miles off shore, we saw no ships at all.

By Wednesday night, we started heading back toward shore and coming into Newport Harbor.  As we headed in, our AIS started showing us other ships--the big ones--and where they were headed.  About 2330 hours, we were faced with one ship heading South--right up our stern, and two ships heading North--right at our bow.  All would pass with in about three miles of each other with us right in the middle of it.  We could not have picked a worse time to try and cross the shipping channel.  It was the only time I ever saw three ships come together like that.  If I had continued on the course I had set, the South bound freighter would have come right up our stern and hit us.  If I changed course the wrong way, the ships heading North could have hit us.  So I changed our course so that we would head back out to sea until they passed us.  "He who changes course and sails away, lives to sail another day" of some such saying.  Even changing course, they passed with in a few miles of us and out in the ocean, that is closer than we would have liked.  

As dawn broke this morning, we were only 35 miles from Newport and making good time.  It was still overcast and gray but no fog--at least not yet.  As we neared Newport, I spent some time on deck(still hooked up) cleaning up from the night before.  I found the forestaysail sail halyard snap shackle(raised the sail) that clips onto the the top of the sail and  had broken at some time.  Luckily, it happened after I had lowered the sail to the deck.  We didn't have to go up the mast to pull the halyard back down to the deck.  If it had broken while the sail was up, there would be no way to get it back down with out going up the mast to retrieve it.

As we approached Newport, the fog started settling in(or course) and we entered the harbor entrance in the white stuff.  Not bad, but even some fog is too much fog.  We entered the marina and tied up to "F" dock.  We expect to be here for several days.  Several reasons.  One, the weather down South is turning rotten with winds in the high 30 to low 40s and we don't want to face those.  Oh, and of course, the winds are coming from the South.  

Secondly, we found that the new propane line to the stove had broken some time during our trip South.  Tracy had tried to use the stove and found it wouldn't turn on--no gas.  What I have failed to tell you, is that we had a propane problem while in Neah Bay on Monday.  The switch that turns on the propane had failed again.  This was the third time it has happened.  You turn on a switch in the main cabin and that activates a valve at the tank that allow the propane to flow through the lines and get to the stove.  The first two times it has happened, all we had to do was unhook the line from the propane tanks and reattach it and strangely, the propane would come right back on.  Not this time.  It was not coming on.  The voltage at the valve was only reading 3 volts.  The company that makes it says it should read closer to 12 volts when turned on.  I installed a new valve and still nothing.  So out with the valve and I just plumbed it straight into Zephyr.  It worked just fine.  Now that we were in Newport, Tracy wanted to cook something for dinner and no gas.  I hadn't turned it off at the tank so when I checked, the tank ready empty.  It had read 100 pounds the night before.  I pulled out my wrenches and I checked each fitting at the tanks to make sure I hadn't not tightened the copper tubes from the tank to the stove.  All appeared tight, so off with the old tank and in with the one we keep to use with the barbecue grill.  I turned it on and Tracy started yelling to turn it off.  We were leaking propane gas below decks.  The night before, Tracy had complained that she kept smelling rotten onions on board.  Sorry, it wasn't bad onions, it was propane from the tanks.  The line into the stove had sheared--or just simply broken.  It's amazing we didn't explode.   Tomorrow, my first job is to set off to get a new hose or have one made that can take the swinging motion.  We can't leave with out it being fixed.  I also need to have the propane tank refilled and about a dozen other things that need my attention.

So it's off to bed as it is quickly approaching midnight here.  Tomorrow is another day--hopefully sunny for a change.