Ravn's new owners

Paul, Ravn's new owner, takes the oars.

It was more than two years ago that my wife and I decided to buy a sailboat and go cruising. This was and is one of the most exciting and life-changing decisions ever and we are both fully committed to it.

It means selling or giving away everything that won't fit on our Columbia 43 sailboat Oceanus. Everything includes Ravn.

Over the last two years I've made some half-hearted efforts to sell her - a few ads on Craigslist and other places - but I was busy working on Oceanus and I didn't want to think about it. Then we listed our house for sale and right away got an offer. With closing looming in just a few weeks, I had to do something.

As luck - or fate - would have it, a kindred spirit appeared to take stewardship of Ravn, thanks to his observant and angelic life partner.

Paul and I discuss Ravn's rowing attributes.

A meeting at an informal social gathering lead to Mary and Paul visiting my dirty garage shop to look at Ravn. After nearly two hours of questions and tale swapping, we struck a deal. As Mary and Paul were leaving I said, "Paul, you're going to love this boat."

"I already do," he replied. There was nothing he could have said that would have made me feel better.

The following Saturday we went for a sail on Devil's Lake. It's was about 6 p.m. when we met at the launch ramp. I was tired from working on Oceanus all day and the previous day. My fatigue melted away once we launched Ravn. The wind, which had been blowing 20 knots all day, settled down to a more pleasant 10 knots.

All three of us rowed the boat. Paul owns a peapod and is an experience rower. He loves it and it shows. We talked about oar placement and he already is thinking of how he could improve Ravn's rowing performance.

Then I hoisted sail. After I demonstrated the querks of a push-pull tiller, I handed it over to Paul. Ravn sparkled under the breezy conditions. Paul put her through her paces with a smile on his face. Meantime, Mary moved freely about the boat and found her favorite perch sitting on the foredeck. Only the growing twilight put an end to the sail.

Ravn under sail just before handing the tiller over to Paul.

My big worry in selling Ravn was that she would go to inexperienced and unappreciative owners. Paul and Mary are just the opposite. I wish them well in all their future adventures with Ravn.

I have included Mary as an author for this blog. Below is her first contribution. Let's hope for many more.

Mary:
Paul, a lifelong mariner, is the proud new owner of Ravn! Recently retired, Paul spent his life on the sea beginning with service in the U.S. Coast Guard where he was stationed on the west coast and got his first taste of Alaska.

After college (where at 5’11” he was deemed too short for the rowing team), he worked for the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, but the pull of the sea was strong. He chose life as a skipper in the king crab fleet in the heyday of that fishery. Later, after cruising with his family on the sailboat Moonshadow, Paul took a temporary job as a yacht captain in Florida which turned into a third career.

Alaska continued to beckon, however, and when a buy-back boat from the king crab fishery became available, Paul had the opportunity to combine his past boating experiences into a new venture as part-owner and captain of a privately-owned vessel in the Northwest and Alaska research fleet.

With his recent retirement, however, Paul is now proud to be the full-time Captain of the lovely and capable faering Ravn, rowing and sailing to his heart’s content. Paul plans to use Ravn to enjoy the beauty of the Pacific Northwest with life partner Mary, who gifted Ravn to him to celebrate the momentous occasion of his retirement. Look for news of their adventures - exploring, camping, and filling the boat with family and friends at every opportunity.

Ravn is for sale

Ravn on her second sail.

I thought when I built Ravn she would be my last boat. That I would sail her until I could sail no longer. She turned out even better than I expected, and I expected a lot. Every time I take her out for a sail or a row she delights me.

But now I must sell her. I will miss her, but where I'm going she can not come. My wife and I recently bought a new boat that will be our home and our magic carpet to take us to warm waters and places I have dreamed about since I was a boy. We want to follow Emerson's directive: "Live in the sunshine. Swim in the sea. Drink the wild air." So everything that doesn't fit on the boat must be sold, including Ravn.

Those of you who know me or read this blog, know that I have lavished time and used only the best wood and materials on this boat. I never intended to sell her. Who I sell her to is almost as important as what I sell her for, so I'm hoping my friends and readers of this blog will find a good new steward for this excellent boat.

I need to sell Ravn for $7,900. I, of course, think she is worth much more than that. Here's what she is and what is included in the sale:

• She is a faering, built to the beautiful Valgerda design by Atkin: 18 feet 9 inches LOA, 14 feet 9 (or 11) inches LWL, 5 feet 8 inches beam and a draft of about one foot. Yes, as the Atkin site says, I took some liberties with the keel, making a shallow draft version. It's worked out well and I would do it all over again.
• Ravn won the People's Choice Award at the seventh annual Toledo Wooden Boat Show in 2011.
• She comes with a sail, rudder, spruce mast and all other sailing gear, including handmade wooden blocks.
• Four, handmade wooden oars 10 feet long. Ravn can be easily rowed with one, two, three or four rowers.
• A full, close-fitting acrylic canvas cover that can be used while towing Ravn at highway speeds.
• A beautiful, fully-galvanized and customized Easy-Loader trailer with bearings that never need greasing. I bought it new when I finished the boat and it is wonderful!
• A Danforth anchor with eight feet of chain and 150 feet of 3/8 nylon rode in a canvas bag. 
• Dock lines and two black fenders.
• The plans drawings from Atkin that are suitable for framing and a collection of information about faerings that include a famous, but rare, English monograph about the original Kari.

Ravn at Hope Island.

Serious buyers may contact me at brandonfordus(at)yahoo.com.

Things I did right: No gooseneck

Ravn's boom jaws and downhaul. Note the slipped, overhand knot on the keeper.

For a while now I thought it would be helpful for others contemplating a Valgerda build for me to fess up to those things I did right and those things I would do different. I'll start with one I did right.

Atkin specifies a fixed gooseneck to attach Valgerda's boom to the mast. This does not make sense for an oar and sail boat. The boom would be in the way all the time you weren't sailing; whacking you in the head when you row and adding significant windage. It would also make setting up and striking the rig more difficult.

My solution was to replace the fixed gooseneck with boom jaws and a simple rope downhaul. Here's what I like about it:

• The best thing is it's out of the way and out of the wind when you're not sailing.
• It's easy to set up: When you haul up the sail with the halyard, the boom jaws naturally engage the mast. I pass a small bit of rope spliced to one side of the boom jaws (a keeper) through a hole in the opposite jaw, tie a slipped overhand knot, thread the downhaul through a large brass thimble lashed to the underside of the boom and cleat it to the belaying pin on the mast partner. I can do it quicker than I can tell you how it's done.
• Easy and quick to dump: Just pull the tail on the keeper to undo the overhand knot, release the halyard and lower boom, sail and yard onto the thwarts. It's all out of the way and out of the wind in a jiffy.  (The downhaul is long enough you don't have to release it to dump the rig.)
• It's easy to control the sail shape with the downhaul. A fixed gooseneck would require sweating up the halyard to tension the luff. With a downhaul, you have gravity working in your favor.
• Cheap; two bolts and some scrap oak.
• No screws in the mast to cause problems later.
• Looks good! It seems right for the boat. A cheesy stainless piece of hardware, or even a nice cast bronze gooseneck just wouldn't look right on Ravn.

Things I don't like:

• Nothing... yet. When I make a boom tent for on-board camping, a fixed gooseneck might simplify things, but even then the ability to move the boom higher or lower on the mast would outweigh the inconvience of using a bridle to position the boom when using it as a ridgepole.

A faering full of Fords

Three generations of Ford men, my grandson, son and me.

I filled the faering full of Fords and we sailed Budd Inlet the Saturday before Memorial Day. There was plenty of room with six aboard: my youngest son, his wife, two kids, my wife and me. Several times during the sail the center thwart was empty.

I had fun with a hand-held GPS. Sailing back to the boat launch we topped five knots. A great sail!

My grandson on the day he became a sailor.

In the week since the adventure my son says all by grandson talks about is "papa's boat." It must be true. He spent the night with me and the first word out of his sleepy 2-year-old mouth this morning was "Boat!" My boy.

Pocket Yacht Palooza

Pocket Yacht Palooza had an interesting mix of small boats on the beach, docks and plaza.

Those Port Townsend folks really know how to put on a fun boating event. Virginia and I took Ravn to the first Pocket Yacht Palooza of the Port Townsend Pocket Yachters. The group is laid back with no rules or other silliness. It's much like the Western Oregon Messabouts (Coots).
We put in at the Port Townsend Marina and rowed to the other end of town with a light wind on the nose. We thought about beaching Ravn, but ended up going into the Point Hudson Marina with a couple other Palooza boats.
The show attracted an interesting group of boats from little dinks to small cruising sailboats, including one, a 20-foot Flicka, that sailed Micronesia to Hawaii to Port Townsend.
One of the nice things about the event is that fiberglass boats were not discriminated against so it increased the diversity of the boats. There really were too many kinds of boats for me to name here, but if you go to the Pocket Yachter's web site and look at the pictures you will get a good idea. Marty, one of the main springs of the event, had new pictures posted right after the event.

Virginia knits in Ravn with the schooner Martha on the other side of the dock.

We enjoyed the spot inside the Point Hudson Marina across the dock from the beautiful schooner Martha, Jimmy Cagney's old yacht. Having Ravn in the marina took us out of the action, but that wasn't entirely a bad thing.
It was also the Rhododendron Festival in Port Townsend. Some at the Yacht Palooza lamented that it fell on the same weekend as the festival with with increased parking hassles and other problems. But my wife said it was a great opportunity for more people to see how beautiful, versatile and fun small boats can be.

Nap time! No centerboard trunk gives a lot more options for relaxing.

Lots of yarning and discussion in the shadow of beautiful boats.

My wife and I watched some of the parade before heading back to the boat for a little nap in the sun. As we reclined in the boat we could hear the bands play and the announcer, whose standard line with each entry was, "aren't they great! What would we do without you."
After the Palooza we sailed most of the way back to the marina, ghosting past much larger boats. The wind was still light, but faerings are pretty slippery and it doesn't take much to make them go.

A nice sail

Trouble the Sailor Dog and I went for a sail yesterday on our local lake. The day was just too beautiful to resist.

You'll notice that Trouble took her ease on the foredeck, which didn't work out so well for her. In the later photos you may also notice she looks a little damp. One of the nice things about Ravn is she is roomy enough for a wet dog to shake off gallons of water while the helmsman stays perfectly dry.

The winds started out nice and steady from the northeast, then died completely. I spent some time drifting aimlessly thinking it is a perfect metaphor for my life recently. Then the winds filled in from the southwest and Ravn came back to life. Perhaps I will find new direction with a change too.

Prudent, or just a chicken?

Devil's Lake looks deceptively placid. It's blowing like stink!

After what seems like weeks of cold, rainy weather we got a little sun. All day yesterday I was wishing I wasn't at work so I could take Ravn out. Today wasn't supposed to have any sun, but by late morning it broke through and I hitched up the boat. What was a nice breeze at my house turned into fairly strong wind at the boat launch that's five minutes away. Nevertheless, I stepped the mast, tied the halyard to the spar and put the oars through the humlibands in preparation to launch.

As I was walking to the truck to launch, I got hit with a 40-knot gust. I hesitated; weighing my feelings. Was it fear I was feeling, or instinctive warning that one ignores at one's peril? I guess I will never know: I unstepped the mast, strapped my little faering down and headed for home.

The one job I've been putting off is leading some lines to make reefing easier. Maybe if I had those in place I could have tied a reef or two in and had a great sail. One more thing on the to-do list. I really hate being a fair-weather sailor.

I did get some good photos of the newly-served humlibands while they were out in the sunshine.

It is now four hours later and the clouds are back. The sun is gone. Again.

Oars finished

I finished Ravn's second pair of oars back in October, but I'm just now getting around to posting about them. I'm a happier with the look and balance of this second set. (They are the lighter-colored pair on the right.) So I carved a little more on the older pair and now I'm pretty happy with them too. I used several coats of my oil-varnish-mineral spirits mixture. It seems to work well and is very easy to repair and maintain.

Now that I have four oars that match I need to recruit three more rowers to reenact the experiment at the Toledo Wooden Boat Show.

Kjeip, kabe -- by either name they are cool!

I've already talked about kabes or kjeips on the blog before, but not since I installed them. I've rowed with them now for more than a year and I really like them.

I'm applying Stockholm tar to the gasket before serving.

Last week I made a little change, not to the kjeips themselves, but to the rope gasket that keeps the oars in place when you're not pulling on them. These have a Norse name, but I can't remember what it is... h-something. Anyway, they were originally made of plaited spruce roots, which would make them tough and stiff.

At first, I made mine out of quarter-inch synthetic hemp rope and tied it with a Zeppelin bend. I adjusted the size of the loop during several rows until I found the ideal size the gasket needed to be. Then, I laid up the four rope gaskets with 5/16ths synthetic hemp (made of polypropylene). Laying up the rope gasket was a little tricky because I had to work it through the hole in the kjeip and it was a pretty tight fit.

I liked the rope gaskets: They looked good and worked well except -- and this was almost a deal breaker -- two of the four developed a figure-eight twist in them that caused the gasket to work its way between the oar and the kjeip. It caused a ker-thunk, ker-thunk, ker-thunk every time you pulled on the oar. It about drove me crazy!

Here is the served gasket with the oar in place.

So last week I served the gasket with some light hemp rope. Since hemp will rot if it stays wet, I coated the gasket with Stockholm tar as I was serving it and then worked some of the tar into the hemp fibers. I love the way it smells. Nothing says traditional rigging like Stockholm tar.

Serving the gasket increased the stiffness enough so it stays proud of the oar and the kjeip and doesn't get caught between them. It will also protect the rope gasket from chafe.

One of these days I'm going to get around to harvesting some spruce roots and do it up right; but for now, this will serve.

Also this week, my friend, Giacomo De Stefano, posted some beautiful photos from the Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde, Denmark. Among the group of photos are some wonderful pictures of kjeips.

This one just about stopped my heart when I saw it. Beautiful!

This is a Hardanger Fjord-style kjeip. Made for oars with a square loom.

Here are some kjeips being made.

The Best Wife Ever!

That's right bitches, I'm married to the most amazing woman on the planet. Eat your heart out.

My wife calls the sock that fits over the dragon head the "hostage hood."

Even though she lives in another state, my wife was able to make a pattern (with the help of Doryman's wife, Mary), buy exactly the right acrylic canvas (perfect color too), sew a huge cover that was almost a perfect fit the first time we tried it on, and put it under the Christmas tree and make it a complete surprise to me. I must admit, surprising me about anything is not a great feat; I usually have my head in the clouds (the less charitable would say another place). But the rest of it was impressive: this cover is truly a work of art!

I knew I wanted and needed a cover for the boat, but I had no clue how it could be done. My wife designed the cover so well that I can put the hood over the dragon head, unroll it the length of the boat and put a smaller hood over the stern stem and the cover is stretched perfectly down the middle. Then it's a simple matter to tie it down and I'm ready to hit the road. The stitching is very professional, even though she often had to sew through three and four layers of fabric. There are no raw edges anywhere.

The only thing I can take credit for was setting a few grommets, which is a pretty fun job.

I had an acrylic canvas cover on my Chamberlain dory that worked perfectly (also made by my wife). It was in very good shape when I sold the boat after eight years of service -- all of it outdoors. It looked like it could have easily made it another eight or 10 years.

Here's hoping this one will last as long, because it is a thing of beauty, like my wife.

Kelly wants to build a faering

I need more tension on the luff, but it was my second sail.

Kelly, from Kerrville, Texas, is thinking about building a faering to sail and row primarily in a wide, deadwater river area with submerged cypress stumps. He wrote me with a couple of questions.

"I believe the length of Atkin's plan is preferable to 16'6'' in Oughtred's Elfyn design. However, Atkin's plan is described as finishing at 600 lbs.  Understanding that includes lead ballast, more meat in the keel, and so on, I'm concerned about draft.  Oughtred's plan says it finishes around 150 lbs."

A friend of mine, John Kohnen, told me Atkin said in one article the boat would weigh 600 pounds. In another he said it should weigh 450. I need to find a truck scale near a place with a boat ramp so I can weigh mine. My guess is that it would be closer to 450. Although I'm a belt and suspenders kind of builder who tends to overbuild things, I tried to rein myself in during Ravn's construction.

The design calls for 106 pounds of lead in the keel and I put in 98 pounds, according to my bathroom scale. I used purple heart wood for the keel, which is pretty heavy and with my tendency to overbuild, I thought I'd knock off a few pounds so I wouldn't come in too heavy. As far as I can tell, she floats right on her lines, so I think I succeeded.

I would not leave out the lead. The lines of the Valgerda are, according to Atkin, taken right off a Hardanger Fjord faering. Traditional boats built with modern methods (stitch and glue or glued lapstrake) usually end up lighter than the original. I think this would be true of Valgerda. If she didn't have the additional lead in the keel, you would have to add ballast inside to bring her down to her lines. I don't like the idea of lead pigs (or rocks) sliding around in the bilge. Were I to have inside ballast, I think I'd use sand bags, but that would be a hassle too.

I made the keel six inches shallower than on the plan making the draft about 12 inches instead of 18. I also gave her a little more skeg than Atkin drew. My reasons for these changes were these: I wanted shallower draft to make her easier to get on and off a trailer and because my primary cruising grounds include the beautiful coastal rivers of Oregon. The shallow bars require a shallow draft and good directional stability when you are on top of a wave (hence the increased skeg area). Beaching is easier too with less keel. Another possible advantage is a little less wetted surface, which would make her easier to row and may provide a little advantage in light air.

The only down side to the changes is that the deeper keel that Atkin drew should - theoretically - go to windward better. If you want a boat that you can tack upwind in a narrow channel, Valgerda is not your girl, even with the deeper keel configuration. In that situation, I drop the sail and row. That said, I am happy with my boat's windward performance: she is close winded, won't stall in a tack if you have enough way on and the right tension on the luff rope, and if she makes any leeway it's too little to notice.

An East Coast builder, Rick Nardone, built a Valgerda about the same time I built Ravn. He eliminated Atkin's fin keel too, opting to return to the more traditional faering keel, which is about four inches deep. His boat draws about 10 inches. Rick's been a real busy guy and I've only received one rowing report from him, so I don't know how she sails. That's another approach you might consider. (I think his boat may be for sale, by the way, if you want to skip the hassle of building a boat.)

I agree with you that Oughtred's faerings seem short. Modern Norwegian faerings are 18 or 19 feet long and the older ones, like the one buried with the Osberg ship, were more like 22 feet. Oughtred's  
Arctic Tern and Ness Yawl designs are the length I would consider, but there's something I really like about the three-strake faerings.

If, however, you decide you want something lighter or with a centerboard, by all means go with an Oughtred design. They are beautiful boats and, by all accounts, stellar performers. DO NOT put a centerboard in the Valgerda. I think that would really mess the boat up for little gain and a lot of unnecessary complication.

"Also, I'm curious as to whether or not you considered building in solid wood. After pursuing many boatbuilding sites now, I nearly have the impression that building a traditional craft in traditional style is less work than modern plywood and epoxy.  Not that simple, I'm sure."

By no means is building in solid timber easier. It takes more esoteric skill, is less forgiving and materials are harder to come by. (To build Valgerda, for instance, you would need board 22-inches wide and about 20 feet long for the mid-plank. Good luck finding that!) Then, once you have her built, the fun really begins. A traditionally-built faering needs to spend its life in the water or out of the sun and dry wind in a boat shed. Keeping a traditionally-built faering on a trailer - especially in a dry, hot place - would simply kill it.

Adrian Morgan, a boatbuilder in Scottland, built an all-wood version of one of Oughtred's faerings. Check out his blog and web site.
  

Now, about Kelly's shallow lake with sumps: I built my boat with just such conditions in mind. Where I sail there are lots of rocks just under the surface and plenty of deadheads too. I haven't had any collisions yet, but I put a double layer of 6-ounce fiberglass cloth below the waterline and built my keel and stems extra tough out of purple heart. I'm confident she could take a pretty good hit.

I don't think Kelly could go wrong with Valgerda or an Oughtred design. I told him another design he might consider is the Sellway-Fisher Kari 2.

The important thing is to build one. I hope I can post photos of his progress here soon. The world needs more faerings!

November sail

Trouble the Sailor Dog on watch.

I was hoping Saturday would provide a break in the storms that hammered the coast this week and I got my wish. The rain and winds abated leaving filtered sunshine and a light breeze in their wake.

Devils Lake is only a few minutes from my house. It's a beautiful lake and I had it all to myself, unlike during the summer. The north wind was light but steady, giving me a chance to further explore Ravn's windward ability. With the proper amount of luff tension she goes to windward just fine thank you. No racing dingy, but she will make progress to windward.

She's well behaved on other points of sail as well. Ghosting down wind, Trouble the Sailor Dog and I got close to  a large flock of ducks who were using the lake as a rest stop before flying farther south.

Made the dock without touching the oars.

As the sun set I headed for the dock. The wind all but died as I passed a point to windward and Ravn ghosted alongside the dock.

Trouble and I stepped off with no fuss or muss to an audience of none but waterfowl. Where are the people when you do something slick?

Salmon River messabout

 A fellow Coot from California stopped on his way to the Port Townsend Wooden Boat Festival to experience a row on the Salmon River.

Rick rowing his Walkabout.

Rick Thompson brought his beautifully-made Walkabout, a boat designed for rowing by John Wellsford. Wellsford was a featured speaker at the festival this year, which inspired many boat owners with Wellford designs to show up with their boats to what is one of the oldest wooden boat shows in the nation.

Rick and his wife took their time wending their way up the coast from their home near San Francisco to Port Townsend, Wash. He emailed me and said he wanted to experience rowing one of Oregon's coastal rivers. The Salmon did not disappoint.

My wife enjoying the fine weather with Trouble, our dog.

The weather was beautiful - sunny and calm - and the tide that afternoon was mellow with only a three-foot exchange. My wife, who is skeptical of boating trips on the Salmon River from years of experiencing wind-tunnel conditions there, took a stocking cap and coat and, amazing to her, didn't need them.

Rick rowing out to take a close look at the bar.

The water was clear (in contrast to what Rick was used to rowing on the Sacramento River delta) and the wildlife was abundant. Shore birds and water birds of all kinds greeted us and harbor seals followed our boats like curious puppies. A large herd of Roosevelt elk grazed in an open patch above us on Cascade Head. It was a sight we almost missed because we were so busy admiring the two beautiful boats pulled up on the deserted beach.

Six-foot ocean waves kept us in the river and on the beach for the most part, but Rick ventured a little too close to the breaking bar and a wave climbed over his stern and into his cockpit. His Walkabout handled it well and he was able to sponge out the water between strokes on the quiet row back to the boat launch.

Ravn is the People's Choice

Bob, Clair, Doryman and me rowing.

 The seventh annual Toledo Wooden Boat Show in August was a fun event for several reasons: it marked the one-year anniversary since launching Ravn, it was the first time rowing Ravn with four rowers and Ravn won the People's Choice award.

 Doryman is one of the mainsprings of this event and keeps very busy before, during and after the show. One of his most pleasant duties this year was playing host to Bob and Claire McDonald, a wonderful couple from Spokane who recently donated their Teak Lady sloop to the Port of Toledo. Now the port has a matched set.

Doryman and I discuss seating before the row.

 During dinner Saturday night Bob and Claire, who are at the aft end of their mid 80s, recounted their adventures rowing nearly every morning on the Spokane River. Bob said he wished he could row at the festival. This matched up with one of my wishes -- rowing Ravn with four rowers. Sunday morning both wishes came true.

Mary, Doryman's lovely wife, put together a great video of Ravn with four rowers. Many thanks to Mary, who also took the pictures in this post. I had my camera with me, but I didn't use it much.

The major award.

Return to Hope

Ravn with Mount Rainier in the background.

In July, my family mounted an expedition to Hope Island, a small island not far from Olympia, Washington. It was a fulfillment of a dream that kept me going during the long months I was building Ravn. I would imagine my family on a sparkling summer day, sailing on a gentle breeze to this storybook island to picnic and enjoy her beauty. The reality turned out even better than the dream.

I hauled Ravn on her trailer the 200 miles from my home to Olympia where most of my children, grandchildren and my wife live. Ravn is very easy to tow behind my little pickup and I hardly noticed she was there. Other people on the highway noticed her, however, and I received several thumbs up from other motorists. Trailering the boat added about 15 minutes to the four-hour trip and upped my gas consumption by about a third. But it was worth it.

About 20 years ago Washington State purchased the 106-acre Hope Island and turned it into a state park. I worked for The Olympian newspaper at the time and wrote a series of articles about the island. My family and I visited the island several times when we had our big sailboat Lobo. The island has a special place in the heart and history of my family.

The natives paddled their traditional craft made of fiberglass walrus hides.

We launched from Boston Harbor, which is just a few miles north of Olympia. My wife, daughter, her two kids and I were in Ravn. My oldest son, his daughter and his girlfriend rented kayaks at the marina making it a grand fleet.

My daughter also loves rowing.

The trip to the island took a little over an hour with my daughter and I rowing most of the way until a light breeze took us the rest of the way to the island. We saw seals, harbor porpoise and many huge jellyfish on the way.

We nosed up onto a deserted, rocky beach and I held the bow while everyone clamored over the foredeck an onto the beach, all without getting their feet wet. I was proud of that achievement, but it didn't last long; the kids were soon wet up to their knees and beyond.

I wasn't watching the tide and Ravn dried out.

The tides in this part of the world have about a 10-foot range. With all the picnicking, exploring and visiting I was not paying attention to the boat. I finally glanced over at her and found the tide left her high and dry. I had to drag her over barnacle-encrusted stones the size of my fist to get her afloat again. At about 650 pounds, she's a lot to move by yourself, but not too difficult.

My grandson watching for harbor porpoises.

The sail back to Boston Harbor was a pure joy. The wind was a little fluky at first, but soon filled in and Ravn moved easily along while the kids played. My granddaughter found a sponge and busied herself cleaning the boat. It was short on cleaning value, but long indeed on entertainment value. Once she tired of that, she joined her brother on the foredeck to watch for seals and jellyfish. I remembered that as I was building the deck two winters ago I envisioned just such a scene and it made a perfect day even better.

Sailing at last!

My wife and I had Wednesday off and it wasn't raining, so we took Ravn for her inaugural sail. It was great!


She (the boat) behaved like a lady, moving smartly under her small standing lug sail.



I know what all you sailors are asking: "Does she go to windward?" The answer is, I think so. The wind was 10 to 15 knots but the hills and valleys caused it to clock around 180 degrees in 100 yards, so by the time we made it through a tack, the wind was from a completely different direction. I also didn't have a downhaul rigged until about the last 20 minutes of the sail. I think once I get her tuned, she will go to windward, after a fashion, just as Atkin said.

She really shines on a reach and a run.


Yes, it was that cold, but still a great sail.

Depoe Bay Wooden Boat Show

Last weekend the little coastal village of Depoe Bay, Oregon, put on it's annual Wooden Boat Show. Ravn was one of the attractions.

A Pacific storm blew through the day before with gale-force winds and constant rain. Here on the Oregon coast the only real rain storm is horizontal rain. Saturday dawned calm, cool and cloudy but the forecast was for no rain and it held through the weekend.

Depoe Bay claims to be the world's smallest harbor and I've never seen a smaller one, so maybe it's true. It's secure: protected from wind and wave by huge basalt cliffs with a small entrance called the Hole in the Wall.

I was hoping to take Ravn on her inaugural sail before the show to work the bugs out, but the Pacific storm prevented that. With the confined space, fluky winds, strange tidal currents and an audience, I decided to postpone that event. This week, for sure!

I didn't take many pictures. For a good slide show and a video of events at the show go to my friend Doryman's blog.