Morning

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bow-lines. Sail away from the safe harbour. Catch the trade winds in your sails.

Explore. Dream. Discover.

—Mark Twain

CHAPTER 1

Humpbacks

Our first contact with humpback whales occurred north of San Francisco. It was an unexpected encounter on an extreme weather sailing day down the U.S. west coast.

We moored for the night in the Fort Bragg Marine Basin. We left the small marina by 05:30 and our destination was south to Bodega Bay with its large secure marina. We thought we could easily transit during daylight hours.

It was a clear day to sail. This was a relief to us because Northern Californian coastline conditions are typically foggy and windy.

We motored Morning, our 44-foot Nordic sailboat, for a few hours until the wind piped up. It was 15 knots, then crept up to the 20 knot range, and settled back down to 15 knots.¹

Allan had to work very hard on sailing the boat downwind, bringing sails in and out. He finally set up the spinnaker wing-on-wing. Morning looked like a giant bird wallowing in the building waves. We rolled around a lot, but as we turned the corner at Point Arena we were running with the swell and it became a smooth, comfortable sail.

The wind increased suddenly. At 25 knots, it’s time to reduce the sails. The waves became steep and built up to over eight feet high at five seconds apart. Now it was going to be a real challenge to reef the sails.

Allan swung the boat at an angle in waves and wind so that Morning stayed in a reasonably stationary position. We were able to safely reef the main and gyb sail. This manoeuver demanded full attention, strength, and concentration. We should have pulled the sails in much sooner before the wind built up and the waves got so large. We were sailing in rapidly deteriorating sea conditions. My heart was pounding and I struggled to stay focused. This was the most challenging sailing we had ever done.

With three children on board I could have panicked, but I forced my fear down. I had to be fully functioning and alert in order to assist Allan with managing the boat.

As Allan was tugging on one of the lines he screamed, Something black, dead ahead! In spectacular simultaneous motion two enormous black humpback whales breached directly in front of our boat. They fell on to their backs with a gigantic splash. Unexpectedly, one of the whales came alongside our rapidly moving boat. We were barrelling down the face of the wave at record speed with this huge whale right beside us. Meanwhile, Allan was doing his best to keep the boat under control.

Our children were so excited that they were hanging over the side of our boat to get as close as they could to the humpback whale. Normally the children would have been harnessed and tethered to the boat so they wouldn’t slip overboard, but everything was happening so fast.

We could see one whale eye and we were close enough to smell the whale’s breath. I was horrified. I imagined that in one quick flick the gargantuan tail would smash our boat to bits.

Joshua, Joanna, and Lydia were ecstatic—to be so close to a large humpback whale was exhilarating. Who at home would believe this? No aquarium experience was even close.

Abruptly, with a big snort and deep breath, the mammoth creature slipped away under the water and disappeared.

We were stunned, hardly able to believe what we had seen. My heart was pounding, concerned that the children were still not tethered to the boat. Would the whale resurface? We scanned the horizon looking for signs of the great humpbacks.

I scooted the children down below while Allan and I got back to concentrate on sailing our erratically surfing sailboat.

Up and down monstrous seas we raced up to eleven knots—faster than the speed at which the boat was designed to sail.

We barely caught our breath when a pod of 10 porpoises arrived and surrounded our boat. They swam alongside us for a half an hour as Morning wildly careened down the waves.

To have these frolicking visitors accompany us was wonderful. It felt like the ocean was offering up her inhabitants so that our little family would not be so overwhelmed by a large, threatening, dark ocean.

Surprisingly I found it a great comfort to know that we were not alone on that tumultuous churning grey sea.

LYDIA’S JOURNAL

We left quite early in the morning because it was a full day of travel. The trip started with rolly waters and no wind. Near breakfast time the wind kicked up to 15 knots. We pulled out all our sails. We looked at the wind indicator again and it was 25 knots!! We reefed the sails. The wind got stronger we reefed some more. Soon the wind got up to 30 knots. Dad was reefing the main sail and suddenly shouted. Now, our dad is not a shouter so we thought the rigging was falling down or something worse. We looked out to sea and suddenly we saw it too. It was a big black thing leaping out of the water. Dad had thought at first it was a rock or ship but soon we realized it was two humpback whales breaching right out of the water. They passed us by waving their long beautiful flippers at us. Later that day porpoises also came to play in our bow wake to make sure we were okay. Our friends on Saucy Lady were sailing behind us and the porpoises and humpbacks gave them a show, too, how fun.

Along the way we have seen over a dozen whales just look at us and leave. We even smelt their breath though it wasn’t very nice. Dolphins and porpoises keep us busy too, riding the bow wake. They can go faster than our boat even at our fastest speed. Aren’t those whales amazing!!!!!????

¹Wind at 15 knots (28 km/hr) can be comfortable with all the sails up. I call it dream sailing. I am not very happy when the wind speed reaches 25 knots (46 km/hr). The sails need to be made quite small (reefed) and in the open ocean, the seas will be very large. With 34 knots (63 km/hr) or gale force, the seas get huge, and sailing becomes difficult for a small crew. It’s time to be safely anchored somewhere.

There is nothing, absolutely nothing, half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.

—Kenneth Grahame, Wind in the Willows

CHAPTER 2

Beginnings

Five years earlier we bought our first sailboat. It was a small boat, 23 feet in length. Allan got a deal one weekend from an acquaintance we knew on Bowen Island. He paid $2,500 for the boat. We named her Swallow. Apparently, in nautical tradition all boats are considered female.

Allan was thrilled with this new acquisition, because it gave our family an easy way to get away and have adventures. With years of reading the British children’s sailing series Swallows and Amazons our family was ready to head out on our own Swallow.

Allan got us sailing as often as he could with the goal of planning longer trips.

He planned our first overnight weekend trip away to Brigade Bay on Gambier Island. It was only a few miles from our home on Bowen Island.

I organized the food, sleeping gear, clothing for all variety of weather conditions for each of us, as well as a packing up a compass, and a chart.

We headed off. This was our first family sailing adventure.

It took us three hours to get to Gambier Island. We learned years later that this trip would take half an hour.

The trip to Brigade Bay was long, but uneventful. The children were very excited. Once we anchored in the bay, we took quite a bit of time to get organized for the night. It was a logistical exercise to find a sleeping corner for everyone on board this cramped but cosy 23-foot boat. Allan and I slept in the small open cockpit with a tarp over us in a tent fashion. The children slept inside the boat, and all of our gear was piled up on the small table inside the middle of the boat.

We did not take into account that the Sea-to-Sky Highway was directly opposite the anchorage. We listened to traffic all night; it was a sleepless night.

In the morning we woke up to six inches of icy cold ocean water on the floor of the boat. I have never experienced anything so unpleasant. Our children were undaunted. It was our first overnight on a boat. Dad, could we do more of this, please? they pleaded.

After a summer of sailing Swallow, Allan realized she wasn’t a real sailboat. It seemed to take us forever to cover any distance at all. With all the sails up Swallow hardly moved. With a strong current against us we did not move in a forward direction. Allan was frustrated and renamed her The Slug.

Yet Allan had a dream. Cruising World magazine described a sailing dreamland that was beyond our limited Howe Sound waters. Allan wanted to experience sailing dreamland.

We have a friend who was a boat broker. Without telling me, Allan was talking with this man about boats.

One day Allan came home and announced that we had bought a boat for $70,000 (in 1995 dollars).

He had not discussed this with me. I was shocked at this huge investment.

But, honey, we HAVE a boat! I replied naively and with irritation in my voice. I could not believe he went ahead and made such a large purchase with no discussion.

Cathy, I’ve bought our family a great boat. One that can actually go places... you know... wilderness places, and faraway places, like when you circumnavigate, Allan ended triumphantly.

I didn’t get it.

How much bigger, Allan? How big is this boat? By this point I was impatient and pressing.

"Cathy, this is a sail boat; a 39-foot C&C. It raced in the Vic-Maui race. She can really move. She’ll be perfect for our family. And we can go away for weeks at a time."

I was stunned. To go from 23-foot Swallow, that could hardly move forward in a good wind, to a Vic-Maui racing machine seemed like a huge leap.

I gulped. This was the first step towards The Dream.

So Swallow was sold. And Seraphim became our new family member. Allan loved our new boat. And he bought dinghies—for the children, of course—that he named Seraph and Sera.

I started to realize Allan wanted to do more with his life than just work all the time. He wanted to give something significant to our children. He wanted them to know the joy of sailing that he had experienced when he went to summer sailing camp at 12 years of age. Allan wanted our children to experience life; full life on the edge. I call it the living in the moment kind of life. He wanted our children, while they were still young, to experience the kind of life that requires focus, discipline, dedication, challenge, and hard work; real life living that you work hard at for those experiences that you never forget.

It wasn’t long before Allan had a subscription to Pacific Yachting Magazine and Cruising World Magazine. He signed up with the local Bluewater Cruising Association. Allan attended all the meetings in Vancouver. He took every course offered including diesel mechanics, navigation, and wilderness medicine.

Allan was committed to a dream. He wanted his family to sail and to sail away to somewhere. I needed to know exactly what he was thinking. What did he have in mind?

I did not know how to sail and had only been on a small sailboat a couple of times in my life. I had not particularly enjoyed the experience. As a matter of fact, I did not like it at all. I had memories of being cold and wet and not being able to get to the destination planned on. I knew that you cannot sail in a straight line to anything. Zig-zagging to a destination seemed pointless in my mind.

Sailing is dependent on the wind. And the wind is unpredictable if there is any wind at all. There is either no wind or too much wind. I never understood people who were passionate about sailing. And I was discovering that I was married to a man who thought he loved sailing. Maybe he was in love with the idea of sailing to those exotic places that were featured on the colourful yachting magazine covers.

Admittedly, our experience with Swallow and Seraphim proved that our children loved sailing. They loved the adventure, the fun of being together, all cozy, doing outdoor adventures and having amazing outings. It gave them a strong sense of freedom and adventure they had never experienced before. They were taking responsibility with boat chores, their journal writing, living together in tight quarters, and getting along with each other. The skills we were learning by sailing were changing our family into a cooperative team unit. Everyone had to pitch in and work together. They got really excited about it all. Reading adventure books out loud to them for years beforehand had probably contributed to this appetite for the real adventure. Now they were ready to do it.

I went along with the plan.

If we were going to sail as a family I made the decision that at least I would make sure our children knew how to sail. I signed them up for every sailing course I could find. I also signed them up for every level of swimming lesson. I had to know they would be safe and comfortable on the water. Lydia, our youngest, was not that happy with the prospect of sailing or swimming lessons, but she never complained to me. She did her part and went along with her brother and sister.

I took the Basic Power Squadron Course offered locally. A good friend of ours also attended the course. Chris had grown up sailing in the Atlantic Ocean off of Great Britain. He was most encouraging and said,Yes, Cathy, you will be able to sail across Georgia Strait. Your boat can do it, so, you can too.

I wasn’t sure what Chris meant. Georgia Strait is that large expanse of water (20 miles across) between Vancouver Island and the BC mainland, which ferries cross. In my mind this was not a stretch of water that a small sailboat should be crossing—especially with young children on board.

I passed the Power Squadron course with 100 per cent. At least I knew the theory of basic boating, safety and navigation.

Meanwhile, Allan was planning our next boating adventure; two months of summer sailing as far as we could go in our local waters. Allan bought all the charts for the Gulf Islands, San Juan Islands, Desolation Sound, Princess Louisa Inlet, and even further north.

Allan was getting very serious about this.

He outfitted the boat so it worked well and he set it up so that it would be comfortable for living on board. As an architect, Allan is a detail man. He knows how to think about and deal with all the smallest details. He is also handy and can fix anything. This was a comfort to me. At least I knew we had a boat that would work and that Allan could fix.

Once school was out at the end of June it took a couple of weeks to get the boat loaded up and well provisioned before we set off for two months of sailing by mid-July.

I had no idea what the two months ahead would be or could be like living on a sailboat. I had never grown up on boats. This was the most unfamiliar experience I had ever had. How would I manage? How would the