Peter Freeman: Circumnavigation Diary

WMA 2003

WMA 2001

Chatterbox Falls

San Francisco

Desolation Sound

WMA 1997

Australia 1995

Aust & NZ 1990

Australia 1988

Musgrave Landing

Roads

Docks

Water

Sewage

Tennis Court

Launching Ramp

Park

Landscaping

Fire Fighting

Safety

Buildings

Council

Today is the first day of the rest of my life. It all started with the alarm going off at 6:00am. I awoke refreshed after a short but restful sleep. The night before I had loaded Penny's car with the remaining items. Books, cases of apples she had picked from the trees in her back yard and other incidental items were loaded in the trunk. It was while driving along Fairfield road towards Fishermen's wharf that the enormity of what I was about to undertake hit me. I turned up the radio very loud as a song I liked came on the air and burst into tears of joy immediately.

I got onto the boat and started tidying up. What a job! Naturally there were lots of last minute jobs. Dug came to helped me get ready. Later Penny, Lois, Ed and Jen, Lesley and her friend turned up.

Just as we were nearly ready, somebody had decided that I needed some publicity and phoned CHEK TV. The news man arrived on the scene and asked, "Are you the person from New Zealand who is on their way around the world and has just come into port a couple of days ago?"

Without lying I was able to answer him. I said "No. I came here two years ago and I have been living here ever since."

Anyway, we got underway and sailed into the inner harbour and alongside the customs dock. Barry and I went up to the customs building and I asked for my clearance.

I was going to leave it at that but I was a little concerned that my truthfulness would raise his ire so I explained.

"I won't be calling in anywhere as I intend to circumnavigate without stopping." We sorted things out and he gave me a clearance.

The next problem was my re-entry application. He wouldn't accept the form as I needed two passport style photos and have an immigration officer sign it to issue me my re-entry permit. The immigration officer wouldn't be back until 3:00pm. We managed to get two photos and Lesley and I walked back to the customs office. There was the immigration officer, a woman, who was very nice and fixed everything up straight away.

Back at the boat we got ready to leave with everything reasonably ship shape. I said my good-byes to those friends remaining and at 1425 I was ready to cast off.

I cast off the mooring lines and the others gave me a push. I was away! Unfortunately there was no wind and after about 200 feet the boat slid to a standstill and there I was, standing with a silly grin, becalmed at the start of this epic voyage. Anyway, a few fitful puffs of wind drifted my way and slowly I worked my way out of the Inner Harbour into the Outer Harbour. As I was gently gliding past Fisherman's Wharf, Barry called and waved. I waved back, still feeling that I was going out of the harbour for a bit of a sail. I passed the Ogden Point breakwater light as Dug, Rob and Laurel cheered me on. A quarter of a mile further on I went below to fix up something to eat for dinner and there on the quarter berth was Bill's grinder! Horrors! I couldn't take that around the world with me. So back I sailed and luckily the others had seen me return, so they waited. We exchanged the grinder and cord and I asked Dug to give the grinder to Bill and for Rob to take the cord to your place. So, feeling rather sheepish, I set off again. By this time there was a little more wind and I moved away at about two knots.

From quite a long way off, I could still see Dug watching me leave. This induced quite a feeling in me. He was standing there alone for some time and this gesture of support touched my heart very strongly. When I went below I found two big steaks Dug had left me along with a made up meal for the first night. I really appreciated it.

It was around 9:00pm when I was approaching Race Passage. I was waiting for your plane to go overhead. Then I saw it! I rushed below and grabbed the big spotlight, aimed it at the aircraft and flashed it on and off. Did you see it? It was a fantastic feeling to know exactly where you were up there in the sky, off to Australia.

The tide was with me and I was swiftly carried through the race. The wind had died away to a whisper and the boat was turned and pushed around by the eddies. Later, a light breeze filled in and I got the self steering working. It was still a bit sluggish as the parts hadn't worked themselves in and the grease hadn't gotten to all the new bearings.

Through the night it was slow progress in the light wind and by dawn I had only gotten as far as Sheringham Point, just past Sooke. On going past East Sooke Park, I remembered that lovely picnic we had there. In spite of the hustle and bustle the days before, I had no trouble staying awake during that night. It was cold through the night and the survival suit kept me comfortable.

During the day I kept on the Canadian side instead of crossing over. Normally I cross over to the U.S. side of the Strait to get better conditions however navigation is harder on the U.S. side and I also wanted to stay on the Canadian side for intuitive reasons.

It was when I was almost opposite Neah Bay that I crossed over and headed for the bay as this would be my last shelter if there was a storm coming. The barometer was still steady and I felt sure that I should go so go I went. The wind was getting stiffer and I started to move out of the strait at a steady 5-6 knots. It was getting dark just as I was leaving the strait, going past Cape Flattery. I was feeling very weak from fatigue. It's a different feeling from simple exhaustion. If you are exhausted physically you just don't have the physical energy. If you are fatigued from lack of sleep, your co-ordination suffers. I had the tendency to stumble and be very clumsy. I was also rocking and rolling in the swells and my mind was wandering all the time. I had to keep snapping it back to the job in hand, whether it was setting the spinnaker or poling out the genoa.

I knew that I had to get some rest but there was a lot of shipping around and a lot of fish boats too, so once I was past the ones I could see, I lay back against the lifelines and closed my eyes. I would sleep this way for perhaps five minutes then snap myself awake, look around and repeat the process. I wasn't really asleep as I was still conscious of the boat but I relaxed mentally and daydreamed. I got through the night okay.

By the morning I was clear of shipping and I tried to sleep but it wouldn't come. I hadn't gotten used to the life at sea. The boat was moving fast and by noon my day's run was 128 miles. (Noon Monday to noon Tuesday) After nightfall, I put blankets on the bed, set the alarm for midnight to check on the wind and I fell asleep. What a lovely sleep, but unfortunately it was not enough.

There was still a lot of work to be done around the boat. I was still re-stowing items in places where they would be best and the boat was moving fast, rocking and rolling. I found it a full time job just to get my meals to give me energy to keep the boat moving fast, checking the wind and adjusting the self-steering as the wind shifted. I still didn't feel well rested. From noon on the 16th to noon on the 17th we clocked up an impressive 137 miles and I was catching up the seven hours I had lost when I was behind schedule at the entrance to the Juan de Fuca Strait. I had caught up and was getting ahead of schedule.

It was around 4.00am that I had to change sail and reef down to a #2 Genoa as the wind was increasing. I didn't pay it much heed as the barometer was still rising and sometimes near the top of a rise you can get a bit of extra wind, a sort of last fling. So with this thought in mind I took only enough sail area off the boat to stop it being over pressed. No sooner than I had everything snugged down and peeled off my wet clothes and gotten into bed when I had to take down more sail. So up I went and put up the #1 Jib, the third largest headsail. As I was getting a little wary now, I deep-reefed the mainsail to my #3 reef position, the maximum. The wind was now blowing from the south-east so I started to suspect that a gale was on its way.

When I went below and tapped the barometer, it dropped quite a lot. "Ah, ha!" I thought. "Now I know what is happening." I was getting pretty burnt out by now as it was around 9.00am and I had been changing sail since 4.00am. It's funny, but I had only made two sail changes but that occupied the five hours. On shore while tied up to a dock the job would take fifteen minutes maximum yet at sea it takes a couple of hours. Just getting dressed into wet clothes must take half an hour. So as you probably guessed, by the time I went below and got out of my saturated clothes, dried off and climbed into bed, I had to change down sail again. When I went on deck this time, the wind was starting to howl in the rigging, so I dragged off the #1 Jib and replaced it with the #2 Jib. With the wind threatening to blow the sail out of my hands, I dragged the previously used jib below and added it to the already sopping wet pile of sails in the head. The pile was now up to the cabin top and I couldn't get through to the forward berth area. (Not that I wanted to as it was too rough up there.) Guess what!. No sooner had I gotten out of my wet clothes and into bed but ......... yes, you guessed it. Back on with my wet clothes and back on deck to replace the #2 Jib with the storm jib. I also changed the main for the trysail which took a while as it was getting quite rough and I was sailing close hauled into the wind and waves, with the boat flying. (Of course I could have slowed down, but me slow down?). The wind was coming from the south now and unfortunately exactly where I wanted to go so the best course I could hold was a westerly one so out to sea we went, leaping and racing over the waves.

By this time I was working out that I should lower the trysail next and just go on a reach with the storm jib, so after getting out of my wet clothes, drying off with a towel that was now becoming useless, I climbed into bed expecting to have to reduce sail even more. No! I didn't! However what happened is that the barometer stopped falling and the wind eased right off so we were wallowing. By now it was 4.00pm. I had spent the last twelve hours changing sails, changing clothes and fooling myself that there was time to rest. So back on deck I went to hoist the full mainsail and the #2 genoa. I could have used the #1 genoa but I felt that if it freshened again as the barometer was climbing, I would be getting dangerously low on energy and may start making stupid mistakes.

For the whole day I ate, slept and did not change that sail combination. It was perfect, I recovered my energy.

I was now starting to enjoy life at sea. The previous day's run, I had clocked 149 miles, which is averaging a bit over 6 knots. Good for Laivina! The whole of the time up to this date, the weather was cold, cloudy and sometimes mist, rain and fog. So I didn't have much of a chance to dry things out.

During the afternoon I blew out the spinnaker. The wind wasn't that strong but the sail was sopping wet with the fine rain and it must have clung to the spreader or a step once it collapsed. As it filled I guess it tore and that was it. The tear was right across from one edge to the other. A big fix-up job!! It didn't slow me down too much as I was still getting good mileage after I set the two big genoas wing and wing.

I was feeling really happy as I had discovered how to program the calculator to do the sun sights for me and I was learning lots of new mathematics. The weather was still cool but I spent time on deck bare footed. I still wore a sweater through the day though.

In the morning I had figured that I was about three or four days ahead of schedule. It was exciting to know that I would be at the trades well before I expected. At around 8:00am the boat was driving fast with the two genoas. I put on some breakfast and was about to cook up some eggs when the boat broached off a wave and slammed sideways. I waited for it to recover and get back on course as it usually did after a broach, but it didn't. I went on deck, unlashed the tiller and helped the boat back on course. After it had settled back on course, I lashed the tiller back into position and then noticed that something was funny with the self-steering. This was not uncommon as sometimes a pin would pop out and I would simply pop it back. I looked at the rudder and saw that the trim tab was missing. The trim tab is the little rudder that turns the bigger rudder. I thought "Oh, no!" Then I figured that the fitting at the bottom had undone and it had fallen off. I figured that it would take me a day or so to make a new trim tab and fit it. Then I looked closer.

From the waterline down there was no rudder as well! The self-steering rudder had sheared off at the waterline and taken the intact trim tab with it. I managed to get the genoas off and set the #1 Jib. I also had to reef the main as I had to go back looking for the debris to try and salvage something. I searched and searched. Most of the time I sat up at the top of the mast hoping to see a bit of red anti-fouling paint which would give its position away. No chance.

I went below and sat down. I was shocked. I had not expected this as I felt that the little wooden shear pins would break before the rudder reached a critical stress limit. Apparently not. I realized very quickly that I couldn't go on without the rudder. I had to call in somewhere and rebuild the rudders. I thought of San Diego so I shaped a course for San Diego, about 400 miles away. Later I changed my mind and headed for Santa Barbara which would be closer. I managed to get the boat to steer a rough course by itself by using an old bicycle inner tube and attaching lines to the tiller so that as the pressure on the sails increases it pulls the tiller one way and as it decreases the rubber tube pulls it back. That's the theory.

In practice it is very difficult to get it to work properly. It will work for a while but you have to baby sit it.

By noon I had sailed only 40 miles, quite a poor mileage, but as I had to sleep I was forced to hove to. I was not impressed.

This day the wind was more close hauled so I was able to get the boat to self steer by just lashing the tiller so we had managed to make more mileage. All boats will self steer to windward on a close hauled course. I made about 100 miles that days noon to noon run.

During the afternoon I was becalmed for most of the time so I finished drying out the spinnaker in preparation for repairing it and read books to repair my morale. My feelings of helplessness and despair were giving way to resolve and I felt more confident that I could repair it and continue on my voyage. While I was working my way in towards the coast, I was conserving my energy for the last push where I knew that I would have to stay awake to get through the shipping into Santa Barbara

At 3:00am I awoke to the sound of the alarm clock to find that I was no longer becalmed and a light breeze had started up. I took the tiller and started steering. At breakfast time I hove to and cooked a wholesome meal to give me plenty of energy to last out the long day. By 10:00am I spotted and identified Santa Rosa Island and so I shaped a course for the Santa Barbara Channel. When it came time to make lunch, the wind had gotten up quite strong and I was making fast progress. A little stronger and I would have to set the #2 genoa instead of the #1. It was very tiring steering as it required most of my energy to keep on course. I made a big lunch after I hove-to and then continued.

Across the main shipping channel and towards the mainland I surged. For a while it looked like I had to get out of the way of a freighter but I went around its stern nicely. By sundown I had reached the mainland shore and was now working along it towards the east and into Santa Barbara. Unfortunately, I was now getting into the lee of the Santa Ynez Range so the air was light and fitful. At least I was out of the shipping. I was getting pretty tired by now as I had been steering for over twelve hours. Through the evening I worked east in the changing breezes.

By dawn I was outside Santa Barbara and around 9:00am I expertly sailed into the bay and into the harbour, tacking under main alone up into the head of the marina to the berth outside the harbour master's office.

I was very proud of myself as I was able to perform a difficult feat of maneuvering under sail after having been at the helm for thirty hours non-stop. People just said "Haven't you got a motor on that thing?" I was satisfied by my efforts and that's all that counts.

Eventually I found an empty berth and I visited the harbour master. He gave me the Customs Officer's phone number but try as I might, I couldn't raise him. A couple of hours later the coast guard managed to get hold of the customs officer and I spoke to him on the phone. As I had called in for emergency purposes, he didn't bother to come and clear me properly, but just told me to let him know when I was ready to leave. I decided to pay the ten dollars for a nights berth rather than anchor out as I wanted a shower and it would be easier to load the wood on board. Also my intuition told me that it would be the right thing to do. After I berthed, I talked to some people and within an hour I was being driven around town to look for some hardwood. No go. None of the hardwood stores were open and I decided to get it Monday when everything would be open. I was also offered the use of a workshop to build the rudder!

I still had a good chance of completing what I set out to do, a solo non-stop circum-navigation. However, on the way back I will have to call in to Santa Barbara before going onto Victoria. It will just mean that it will be a Santa Barbara to Santa Barbara circum-navigation. We'll see how everything goes.

This is the day after I arrived in Santa Barbara. I slept well the night before but I wasn't able to sleep in as my sailing habits prevailed. I spent part of the morning while tied up at the dock cleaning the boat and drying out the inside, and before noon I was at work sawing and chiseling the fittings off the broken remains of the rudder and unbolting other parts. The rest of the afternoon was spent drying and folding my sails.

By 4.00pm I felt that I had better leave since I had only paid for one night, so with the pass key I took my washing into the shower and washed the salt out of my sailing clothes. With the last minute jobs done I motored out of the harbour looking rather strange with the mast festooned with shirts on hangers and towels draped over the boom. Unusual sailing rig I must say.

Out in the bay I looked for a spot among the many boats already at anchor or on permanent moorings. I found a large area where there were no floats and yet all around the boats were jammed with just enough swinging room. I wondered why. Thinking how lucky I was I dropped anchor in the centre of this empty space and settled down for the night.

The next morning I got up early, had breakfast and rowed the dingy over to Stern's Wharf. This wharf juts out into the bay for about a hundred metres or so and is now used as a place for tourists. There are restaurants, boutiques, souvenir shops etc. I quite liked it except that the restaurants clashed with the old wharf structure.

I tied the dinghy to an iron ladder beside one of the piers and after timing the swell, sprang onto a rung and climbed the twenty feet or so to the deck of the wharf and clambered over the rail. I walked quickly along the boards and after reaching the shore, I was off into town to look for my timber. The first place I tried did not have the right hardware but I was referred to "Sobobo Hardwoods" where there was an excellent selection of hardwoods, but expensive! After selecting what I needed I went to the bank to exchange some Canadian notes for U.S. currency. I didn't get much as they charge a 25% fee for doing it!. I had enough to pay for the timber with about six dollars left over. "There goes my emergency money" I thought

I paid for the timber and with the three pieces of Honduras mahogany on my shoulders, I headed back towards Stern's Wharf. The timber wasn't that heavy but I still had to change shoulders once in a while. I reached the spot above the dinghy soon enough and after climbing down the ladder with one piece at a time I managed to load the dinghy and not fall in the water much to the disappointment of the tourists watching.

My next task was to borrow some clamps that I had been offered. However I decided to take the timber out to the boat first. When I arrived at the boat I discovered why no one had anchored in the empty spot. To windward was a low platform floating on the water and moored to a buoy. This platform had become a haven for myriad's of sea birds and the day time sea breezes carried an almost overpowering stench of guano right through the boat. I bet the other live-aboards must have chuckled when they saw me anchored there.

After unloading the timber I rigged the dinghy for sail and set a course for the harbour. The rhumb line goes right under Stern's Wharf, past a dredge and into the harbour so, with barely enough clearance below the cross braces, we sailed amongst the piers and out the other side. Ashore I picked up a few clamps but was also given the phone number of a wood working instructor who had lots of stout clamps. I phoned him and he was only too glad to help. He arrived and handed me a box of 17 clamps and we chatted for hours on the dock. His name was Chris and he told me he had built a boat and tried to sail to Hawaii but in spite of his drive and love of the sea, he suffered so badly from sea-sickness that he had to return after a few days. After he left the wind had dropped and I had a nice long leisurely row back to the boat.

After a breakfast of eggs on toast and guano smell, I started laminating up the rudder. After gluing the three pieces together and clamping them, I cleaned up my tools and again rigging the sails on the dinghy, I headed back into the harbour to pick up my battery. I had left it with Peter, another voyager who offered to charge it up on his battery charger for me. By the time I had gotten the battery back to the boat it was dark and I was tired so I crashed on the bunk and had a good nights sleep.

During the morning I unclamped the now glued up pieces of timber and marked out the shape of the rudder. The first job was a long saw cut eighteen inches along the grain of what was now a piece of mahogany five inches thick. It took some time with my hand saw! The next job was to rough out the curved shape to remove most of the excess. Thank goodness my hands were tough from sailing. Working that plane all day made them a little bit sore but with no blisters. I also shaped and finished the long thin trim tab. It is made of much harder timber than mahogany and I needed to keep the blade sharp by constant honing otherwise the plane would just skip over the surface instead of taking a shaving.