SV Darwind

Familiar peaks in Katchemak Bay Approaching Hones lagoon Gotago welcoming Darwind home Tied up to the Seldovia docks, the voyage is officially over. Today, the final day of the voyage, I woke up after a restless night anchored up at Qikutulig Bay, (I know, probably the hardest place name on the map)which was one of my first memories of ever anchoring out on the first major voyage of my life on Northern Passage in 2012. Also, with Seldovia only a day's sail away if all went well, his was where I realized for the first time the significance of what I had accomplished over the summer. Anyway, the night was a bit rough, with the only groundswell we had experienced at anchor so far, and some gusty winds up to around 15 or 20 knots during the night, but Darwind swung to her anchor with no problem, and by morning, the chart plotter, which I had left on overnight as a precaution showed a perfectly smooth arc, with no signs of dragging. Impressive considering we were anc...

Today, mom and I woke up after a very good night's sleep in the inner basin of Chance Cove, a blessing after the turmoil of the day before, and by 7:30am we were underway. The ebbing tide, which had fought us on the way in, sucked us right out and shot us through the narrows of McArthur pass into the open waters of the Southern Kenai Peninsula, where contrary to the weather reports on the radio and texted to the inReach by dad, it was flat calm, with no more than a glassy swell from the south, all shrouded in heavy fog. Not wanting to waste this luck, I decided to head southwest, straight for Gore Point, and out into the open water instead of tucking in behind Nuka island and taking the Nuka passage west then south. This route cut off at least five nautical miles, and turned out to be a wise decision, because when the wind did come, it blew 20 knots right down the mouth of the rocky Nuka passage, which we would have had a rough time beating out of if we had tried to take the more s...

Coming soon, sorry for the delay

Coming soon, sorry for the delay

            At 5:00pm, July 23, at Yakutat harbor, I slung my and dad’s bags into Darwind’s cockpit, lying ready and waiting out a northwest system this past week while I was away, resting and playing in Anchorage and Seldovia with my cousin Matt, who flew out from Connecticut to come hang out and sail in the far north. This week was also the first time all summer that I had spent with Lynx, the 12-foot catboat my dad and I built over the past few years, and my first boat. In fact, so far this summer I felt (and still feel to a degree) extremely guilty about poor old Lynx , who after all, I had built with my own two hands, from the first plank, and who I had offhandedly mothballed after only one summer of sailing . Suffice to say, much of my guilt was eased by being able to finally sail on Kenai Lake with her, something that I have wanted to do since we first drove past the beautiful teal waters on the way to Seldovia. ...

After 4 days of living alone in Hoonah, one of sailing alone to Elfin Cove, where I met and had dinner with the people aboard a motoryacht, at 11:00am, as I was lugging 9 gallons of gas along the boardwalks of the tiny community from the gas station to the marina, there was the roar of a small plane, and a few minutes later a blue-and yellow seaplane tied up to the end of the dock, where a bag of mail, two dry bags of clothes, and dad greeted me (the bag of mail was for the community post office of Elfin Cove, not me). Almost as soon as dad stepped aboard, it seemed we ere off the dock, with only a short pause to stow his bags, buy some last-minute provisions at the general store, and grab a bite to eat.             The day was bright and sunny, but also calm, as we motored out past the protection of the inside passage for the last time, and Darwind began to feel a regular ocean swell start to roll in from the south. As...

Coming soon, sorry for the delay

Coming soon, sorry for the delay

Coming soon, sorry for the delay

Coming soon, sorry for the delay

Coming soon, sorry for the delay

Coming soon, sorry for the delay

Coming soon, sorry for the delay

Coming soon, sorry for the delay

Coming soon, sorry for the delay

Coming soon, sorry for the delay

Coming soon, sorry for the delay

coming soon, sorry for the delay

Yesterday, Day 26, I spent in Wrangell alone, and I whiled away the day doing laundry, reading, cooking (I didn’t burn anything!!), and catching up on sleep. The most interesting thing I did all that day was to rig a line for the third reef in the main. I even wrote a little for the blog, on which I am seriously falling behind, but couldn’t find any wifi to post anything, and after a very boring day, I retired to my faithful boat, ready for my first day of singlehanded sailing on the Darwind .             That brings us to today, the day of my very first singlehanded passage of any significance or length. And just for the record, it was great. Contrary to the boredom of yesterday, I woke up full of energy and set about getting ready to leave. Because I was going out alone today, I was extra careful about getting everything absolutely ready and stowed, because there would be nobody to go get do something that ...

Today I am writing this post from my house in Anchorage, having been on the boat for a month and a half and having sailed over 1,000nm to Yacutat, (I know, I'm way behind on the posts) I have finally been forced ashore by that accursed bane of sailors: headwinds. So far, on the inside passage, the wind hasn't really affected me, as it is almost always light and variable anyway, but crossing the gulf in quite another cup of tea. The prevailing winds are from the west, and combined with the pacific ocean rollers coming in from the south, both wind and seas can conspire to make any west-bound sailor's life a misery. My dad and I were lucky to catch the tail end of a favorable low pressure to get  to Yacutat, but even then we ended up with one day of beating in which we made only 30nm towards Yacutat in 24 hours. So now, with the boat deserted and silent for the first time in 45 days, I'm back in Anchorage, enjoying the luxuries of shore life while waiting for another weath...

Due to the scarcity of high-speed internet in Northern BC and Southeast Alaska, I haven't been able to upload any photos. That is about to change. Day 17 Morris Bay, after a hard day's sailing Sunset at Morris Bay - Red sky at night, sailor's delight Leaving misty Kiltik Cove Fun sailing Rail in the water!! Day 18 Klemtu Fuel Dock, before the rain In full foul weather gear during the height of the rain Day 19 Algae growth in the water Approaching Hartley Bay Graham Reach Day 20 On watch - reading The Blind Watchmaker by Richard Dawkins on evolution through natural selection (either very ironic or suiting, however you want to look at it, on a boat named Darwind ) Day 20 Wing and wing with the big genoa poled out with the boathook Bringing down the Canadian courtesy flag as we cross the border under very similar conditions that we crossed into Canada - No wind and overcast Day 21 Welcome P...

After a good nights sleep, we once again woke up at 6:00 and got underway just a few minutes after the fisherman who had shared our anchorage last night. Everything went pretty smoothly in the morning, by this time I had settled back into sailing-time and was used to getting up early, and later when I was pulling up all that 200 feet of scope, I really woke up. Especially since we were in well over 40 feet of water, so when I got to the chain I was pulling up all 40 feet of 3/8 inch chain, and the 7.5kg anchor on top of all that. At least when we are in 30 feet I’m never pulling up everything at once. After getting the anchor aboard, we got underway at 7:00am, headed for a medium-distance run up to Wrangell, but we needed to time it just right because there were some tricky narrows about halfway there that I wanted to hit at slack. For the first few miles up to the entrance to the narrows it was flat calm with some light, intermittent drizzle that we motored th...

After yesterday’s late start and fun day, Jason and I woke up at 5:00am, after a good night’s sleep. However, due to Jason’s excessive height, I had spent the night in the V-berth for the first time, and though it was a bit smaller than my settee berth, I did appreciate that it was a bit darker. In fact, I was so unused to being in a room at all darker than outside, I had to do a double take when my alarm went off, as I thought I must have set it an hour early. Anyhow, we slipped the dock lines an hour before schedule at 7:00am because we had set our alarms too early and were already awake and ready to go. Our destination at that time was Meyer’s Chuck, where the chart advertised sticky buns available at the dock in the mornings. As soon as we were outside of Clover Passage and into the more open waters of Behm Canal and Clarence Strait, it became apparent that our beautiful following wind of yesterday had deserted us along with the sun, to be replaced with this...