It’s been a while since we’ve seen an overcast sky like this one.
On the far left is the north end of Keats Island – I’m on a very broad reach heading up Howe Sound back to Vancouver.
You can see Boyer Island just off my port bow in the background. just to the left of my forward lower shroud. Behind it is the mainland.
By the time I got back to Horseshoe Bay in the early afternoon, the sun had burned off the cloud and it was another hot July afternoon. Glorious.
Had a lovely sail to Keats Island from Horseshoe Bay – a short overnighter mid-week. This shot is mid-afternoon at Plumper Cove.
After I rounded the top of Bowen Isalnd, the wind in Howe Sound was about 14 knots on the nose and I tried a different sail combination – my 60% jib with a full main. Normally I’d have the 100% jib up with a reef in the main in this wind, but I wanted to see how well the smaller jib performs.
I was surprise to find the boat a lot flatter – even with the full main. Beating all the way up, Madsu was never heeled more than 15 degrees and we were doing a respectable 5 knots average SMG.
When North Sails cut this jib for me, they kept it fairly full low down, but the luff only goes about 2/3rd of the way up the forestay – so I does make sense that I’m getting less heel even with the full main.
I like this combination a lot, keeping the main full means more power through the chop. I do think with the 100% jib and a reef in the main I might have a bit more speed, but also a lot more heeling and not as much punch through the waves – or at least that’s my theory.
I should have known it was going to be a weird day when someone further up the dock said “this crow says mom“.
Sure enough, there’s a crow sitting on top of the piling, crowing “mom, mom, mom” in what sounds like a man’s falsetto.
It was Saturday morning. The dock at Plumper Cove on Keats Island on this particular weekend seemed to have a huge number of families staying the weekend, so the kids came running to have a look at the talented crow.
I kept putting gear away and getting Madsu set for the trip back to Vancouver.
The forecast called for a pleasant 10-15 knots of inflow – but having done this trip many times I knew this could mean anything from dead calm to crazy winds blowing up Collingwood Channel, which runs between Keats and Bowen Island.
Wind from the Straight of Georgia funnels through the channel and I’ve had more than a few hairy rides on that stretch of Howe Sound.
If you’ve ever taken the ferry from Horseshoe Bay to Langdale and the Sunshine Coast, you’ve covered this stretch of water – except I’m going the other way, heading back to Horseshoe Bay.
Sure enough, as soon as a I got within a mile or so of the channel, the wind started to pipe up and really smell different. That’s a breeze with some salt in it.
I heave-to and put a deep reef in Madsu main. With the 100% jib up I figured I was fine for whatever was coming – I could see some whitecaps ahead, but nothing serious.
What I couldn’t see were the gusts and wind shifts that I’d spend the next hour playing with. Actually, it was the wind that played with me for the next hour.
What a ride.
Madsu was well heeled and doing a speedy 6.5 knots on a close reach. I was glad for the reef but kept the main sheet close at hand, a lesson I’d learned last year on this same stretch of water when I was almost knocked down. On that trip I’d gotten plenty wet when I put the lee rail in so deep that I shipped water into the cockpit.
The first gust put the rail well down and I had to steer up about 30 degrees, while dumping the sheet. With my feet jammed against the port side locker, I’m looking straight down at the water.
I couldn’t believe how quick the gusts came, with no warning, and I started watching the water even more closely to try to read the wind on the water.
From what I could tell, the wind wasn’t really funneling up Collingwood Channel at all. It seems to be blowing from the Straight, right over Bowen then down into the sound.
So much for a fast and comfy beam or broad reach on the inflow. Here I was on a close reach that was getting closer and closer, and the wind kept throwing me around every 5 or 6 minutes. The puffs forced me to steer up 30 or more degrees to keep Madsu from getting knocked down.
In the puffs, Madsu’s GPS was clocking SMG at 7.5 knots – certainly the fastest I’ve ever seen the boat go.
It was a rocking trip to be sure – lots of salt spray and there wasn’t the slightest chance I’d be able to reach down into the cabin to get my Nikon out, and the waterproof Pentax was at home.
I was the only sailboat going in this direction that’s for sure. I passed a couple of others under power heading the other way, then what looked like a Hunter 30, fully crewed, on a reciprocal course, reefed right down. The guy on the foredeck was wearing a safety harness and tether. I waved, they waved, and then were gone as Madsu scooted along, never dropping below 6.5 knots.
I can usually trim Madsu’s 100% jib without having to use the winch handle. Today, the 3/8 inch sheets are stiff as an iron rod and any trimming means grinding. I once again pat myself on the back for installing those self-tailing Andersen winches 2 years ago.
By the time we reached Columbine Bay on Bowen the boat slowed down to 5.5 knots and I thought – wow – this feels really slow. Given that I’m usually thrilled when Madsu cranks up to that speed, it made me laugh out loud. I stopped laughing when a series of puffs, blowing around Hood Point, set my on my ear again 3 times before finally settling down.
Once I reached the other side of Bowen, the wind let up considerably, though there were still a few rogue puffs to keep things interesting.
I realized that my arm was really tired from yanking on the tiller, and somewhere along the line I’d gashed one of my knuckles. I have no idea when that happened, but was glad for the little first aid kit so I could lash on a bandage and keep from getting blood on my lovely white sails.
What typically is a three-hour trip (Keats to Horseshoe Bay) was a tidy 2 1/4 hours to the dock.
A sweet wild ride.
I was proud of my little boat – she held up well and kept me safe once again.
And the next time I hear a talking crow at the dock, I think I’ll hank on the storm jib.
There’s a decent breeze blowing in from the Straight. Every 10 minutes or so, we’re also getting crazy little gusts. The wind whistles through the shrouds and the docks at Plumper Cove are rocking.
I can see whitecaps out in the Straight. The folks in the Catalina 30 at the other end of the dock from me are pushing off for the Gulf Islands in a few minutes. It’s a good day for a fast passage across the Straight, but it’ll be a rocky ride – and probably a bit wet with those puffs throwing salt water across the foredeck.
Their little Jack Russell terrier seems to know what’s coming. He’s whining to get below, out of the wind. I’m told he’ll go straight to his snug little carrier kennel stashed under the chart table. One smart little puppy.
In this photo: Keats Island is in the distance, left. Behind it is the mainland. To the right you can see part of Gambier Island in the foreground, and more of Gambier showing further back in front of the mainland. You can see the Langdale/Horseshoe Bay car ferry in the distance just left of centre.
It’s been a cool and not particularly sunny spring leading into summer here.
So when the forecast called for a couple of days of sunshine, I packed some food and headed down to Madsu for a quick overnight trip to Keats Island.
I didn’t get off the dock until 5 pm on a Friday, but had a lovely sail over. The wind was just right and I only had to motor sail through a couple of dead spots.
All the mooring bouys were taken when I arrived shortly at 8 pm, so I pulled up to the dock rather than anchor out.
Met up with some friends from the dock at Horseshoe Bay who were there with their 2 dogs. We had a lovely visit and shared some fun stories – really nice to connect with them out here in one of my favourite marine parks.
We’ve had a pretty slow start to summer. So it’s only right that on this summer solstice weekend, the sun and the heat turned on to remind us what west-coast summers are really like.
The breeze in Howe Sound was perfect for my afternoon sail. Out of the south at 14-16 knots, Madsu’s 100% jib/full main was just right.
We were doing a steady 6 knots to weather, helped a bit by the ebb. Madsu’s speed is really helped when there’s just a light chop – her flat bottom really doesn’t do well in a steep chop.
Off the wind the boat was flying.
Summer. Thanks for showing up finally !
The Victoria Day Long Weekend was a bit of a write off here in the Lower Mainland.
However, we played our cards right for an afternoon sail – we found the perfect weather window in an othewise dreary and wet weekend. And we had a lovely breeze to make the wait worthwhile.
This shot is actually a still from a new video camera I’m using. It’s a HeroHD mini from GoPro, and so far I’m really impressed with the quality of the video and the images. I didn’t treat this picture at all – it’s exactly the way it came out of the video stream.
The HeroHD also shoots stills, but because it has a nifty waterproof case, I’m using it as a video camera on the boat – and I’ll be posting some of my experiments over the summer.
Madsu Meets the GoPro from robert ouimet on Vimeo.
Spring sailing in Howe Sound can make for some interesting day trips.
Today I headed out into a freshening inflow (southerly) and worked my way along Bowen Island toward the Straight of Georgia.
An hour-and-a-half later, the wind pulled a 180 and I found myself on the same point of sail, going the opposite direction.
Madsu was really comfy with a full main and the 100% jib up. We were doing a smooth and steady 5 knots both in and out.
Madsu’s a fine little pocket cruiser, and I can’t honestly say I feel the need for any more navigation help than I currently have.
The GPS is an immense time saver. I could probably do with a slightly nicer looking time piece, but it all works out just fine. At the end of the day, I can pop the board out, and put everything away, out of the weather.
A little squall is making its way towards Howe Sound from the Straight of Georgia. It was just a little one, but I did manage to head in before I got wet.