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.

Rudder and tiller

Since I changed the keel on Mr. Atkin's design I needed to change the rudder too. I did try and keep the area about the same, which makes for a big rudder. It also significantly increases the draft, but only when under sail.

I made the rudder from a beautiful piece of mahogany that was 23 inches wide. It was a gift from my carving teacher after I helped her move. I kept cutting on the shape until it looked about right. Then I rounded the leading edge and feathered the trailing edge.

After I finalized the shape and attached the two cheek pieces, I decided to add a little carving to memorialize the skill my carving teacher passed on to me. I found the scroll and leaf shape amongst a much more complicated Viking-era carving. It seemed a perfect complement to the graceful shape of the rudder head.



The rudder is pretty quick to rig, with the rudder hardware from Duck Trap Woodworking. I thought it might be difficult to do at the dock, but it is, in fact, easier than while the boat is on dry land. The buoyancy of the rudder helps. You can hold it with one hand and drop the pin in with the other.

The push-pull style tiller and reach arm are made from ash. The reach arm has a through tenon that goes in a mortise in the rudder head and is held in place with a wedge in a mortise of the reach arm. The wedge has a marline keeper on it, but I made an extra wedge just in case. The reach arm is seized to the tiller with more marline, which I tarred with Stockholm tar. The tiller is about four inches longer (74 inches) than in the plan. I figured I could cut it down if the extra length isn't needed.