2021, a whirlwind.

New Year’s last year found us preparing to depart Washington to make our move to New Mexico.

An older couple stopped by the week before we moved (about January 20th) to take pictures of the tugboat that we had moved to the property the year before. Jesse got to talking with them and they ultimately bought the boat and the land under it.

The week before that, we wrapped up our re-fit of SV Mikmaks, the very challenging two-and-a-half-year refit project. We splashed her at the beginning of January, did some test sailing to tune the new rig and commissioned all the systems. In anticipation of entry in the Transpac Yacht Race (more on that later) Mikmaks was measured and outfitted for offshore, Category 1 ocean racing.

The rating process was lengthly. At one point, Samantha and I were hanging on to the end of the boom, suspended over the water, along with water jugs and propane cylinders, weighing down the boom end for the measurement process. (Used to calculate the righting moment of the boat.)

We hauled Mikmaks back out of the water at the end of January and tucked her away for our return in late April.

Samm had already taken the horses to Arizona to a boarding facility close to our place in New Mexico, so we didn’t have to worry about them while we moved.

Then we loaded up our tools and household things, filling a big U-Haul, our gooseneck trailer and our little tool trailer.  With the help of Justin Waite and Jason Wilson, we bombed the highway, down the California coast, then across to our new place in the mountains of New Mexico, which consisted of a dry cabin and a composting outhouse.

Arrangements had been made for two 40’ shipping containers to be delivered on site the week we arrived. The plan was to set up our workshop while we built infrastructure and to secure things when we are sailing.  But Container One, the company we purchased the containers from, did not hold their end of the deal and could not supply the boxes. Turns out they were taking payments for containers they didn’t have in stock yet, and when the supply ran short, they didn’t have anything to deliver. Jesse left a review titled “Should be called Container Zero.”

 The shipping containers never arrived.  We unloaded our U-Haul, packed up what we could in the horse trailer and made the best of it. At least it was dry, and thanks to the high desert climate, no dew formed on anything overnight.

Our first priority upon arrival was to build our sauna. This building has been on our wish list since we met. We designed a fairly large sauna, with an attached change room/guest room. It was to serve as our bathhouse and guest accommodation.

Our friends from Show Low said the place looked like a cargo plane crashed into our mountain.  It was quite a hustle keeping things dry and un-damaged.  Container One is on the Naughty list…

After a couple planning evenings, Jason made a materials list and we put the gooseneck to work hauling building supplies.

We hand poured the 12 x 16 slab after leveling a step on the hill, with a nice view and got to work.  Jason spearheaded the project, while we battled the elements.

The snow began to fall a day after we had poured the slab, just before we started on the framing of the sauna building. 

I was also able to cut in a circle drive and do some planning for our shop.

The sauna turned out great. Our friends from Show Low came to help insulate and get the roof on it. Jason worked tirelessly up until the day he left.  Samm and I finished the guest room after Jason left and thankfully a storage unit came available.

We were able to get everything into storage just days before my class in Florida began.  What class? I signed up for a mega-yacht captain’s course a few months earlier, thinking that we would have ample time to move before the course started. I needed to be finished before getting back on Mikmaks. Simple, right?

Our plan was to drive together, towing the horses to Florida, but time would not allow.  So I flew to Fort Lauderdale and began my 200 Ton Unlimited Master Of Yachts class.  Samm dropped me off at the Albuquerque airport, horse trailer in tow. She made the 2000-mile trip with two horses and my motorcycle solo.  I used the motorcycle to get around in the city.

Samm stayed in Saratoga at a horse facility, where she trained Kadir, a brilliant Arabian gelding we acquired the previous July.

The IYT training course was some of the best I have attended and included a great deal of hands-on vessel operation as well as rigorous testing,

After passing the courses, we drove back to New Mexico together, camping and riding horses a little on the way.

Here we are in Roswell, getting a ride on a tiny wagon with tiny donkeys pulling it.  Roswell lives up to its reputation as the alien capital of the USA.

Once we got home, we boarded the horses and flew to the Bahamas.  Our friends Dan and Marcia had been trying to organize a sailing catamaran cruise for years and it finally worked out.  There were extra hoops to jump through but all in all it was not to challenging and we had a great trip, met great people and spent hours upon hours in that warm blue water.

On the way home from the Bahamas, I flew to Annapolis, where I donated a week to Ocean Research Projects, making repairs and welding on Matt Rutherford’s new arctic research vessel.  Then I took a flight to Michigan where my good friend Nick brought me up to speed on some more celestial navigation techniques.

My goal was to win the Celestial Navigation trophy in the Transpac race to Hawaii and Nick was instrumental in organizing the effort.

It was great to see Nick’s boat progress - he is preparing for a circumnavigation himself on his aluminum junk rigged boat.

Once we got home, time was short, and the sailing season was upon us.  We were able to find a house sitter just before we left on our road trip back to Washington via Montana with our awesome cat Figaro and Tico the adventure dog. They were veteran road trippers by this time having done the Florida round trip and the move down to Pie Town. Samm rode Cleo to the pie shop in town.

When we got to Washington, I flew Tico to Isaac in Alaska for dog sitting and Figaro went to Samm’s brother Devon in Seattle. They have two young kids and the whole family loved having Figaro stay.

Mikmaks was splashed straight away and following a couple small fabrication projects, we were in the water, tuning the rig, and on our way to California.

Every system on the boat was new and specially designed.  The shakedown cruise to San Francisco yielded only a few issues.

Continuing down the coast, we participated in a couple races and broke in some crew for the Transpac race. We were 20 minutes late for our start on the first race, deciding to do a loop around Alcatraz first.

San Pedro California was our stop for a while.  We spent a month there, joined a local gym, prepared the boat and provisioned for the race to Hawaii.

The race to Hawaii was a success, in that we finished, in good time, with no injuries and the boat intact.  This was not the case for all boats.  We were the only boat in the race, with a hard tender on the foredeck, full water, full fuel and all equipment required for global sailing.  So, we were not fast, but we were seaworthy in every aspect. We didn’t expect to be competitive, and we were delighted to not arrive last in Hawaii. Our crew got better and better as the race progressed and we really had the boat dialed in by the time we arrived in Honolulu.

I turned in my navigation packet and after the judges reviewed all competitors, I was awarded the Celestial Navigation Trophy.  A nice win for Mikmaks. Without the help of the crew, recording speed, time and heading changes this would not have been possible.

Racing breaks things, so we found ourselves with a list to repair in Hawaii.  Namely some steering gears we wore out on the way over.  We spent 5 weeks in Honolulu, berthed at the lovely Waikiki Yacht Club.

As luck would have it, we met the son of a famous horse trainer there and taught him how to sail.  I ended up on the Warwick Schiller podcast and Tyler his son helped us get our podcast going.

Sad news came to us in Hawaii that back in Seattle, Figaro suffered a massive aneurism or heart attack and died suddenly, while enroute to the emergency vet. He was so loved and missed by everyone.

With global travel inhibited and the Australia policies so restrictive during Covid, we cancelled our plans to sail to Australia for the Sydney Hobart race and sailed back to San Pedro.

This was my favorite passage of the year.  We settled in and just sailed the boat.  Speed was no longer the priority, and I was able to take the time and teach Jeremy, Justin’s son, how to navigate by the stars.  He was able to get an astronomy credit for his homeschool program which was even better. After 23 days at sea, we arrived back into the Port of Los Angeles in San Pedro.

When we arrived in San Pedro, I flew out immediately to pick up Justin’s truck and visit my Mom. She had surgery the day after we arrived, so it was fortunate we were able to be on land and visit with her in Colorado.  When we left, she was recovering well from her surgery.

We stopped back in Pie Town to check on the place and chat with our house sitter on the way back to California.

When we arrived back in California, Claire, Justin’s wife joined us, and all of the Mikmaks crew went to Disneyland.  A first for Samm and I. Claire booked tickets for two days so we could see the whole place – there are two theme parks there – the original Disneyland and the California Adventure Park. It’s not called the happiest place on earth for nothing. We had a great time.

I called mom and she was home with friends over.  She sounded good.  But a few days later I got the call that she had passed away.

Samm and I flew to Colorado and the end of sailing season trips were cancelled.

All my sisters came as well.  We spent 2 weeks sorting out all the details.  It was a tough time, but good for us kids.  Now that both our parents have passed, it seemed more important to get along.  And that we did.

Samm and I made a few more trips between Colorado and New Mexico, getting our truck and trailer to move things from Mom’s house.

Driving home from the funeral, Isaac called with the news that Tico was sick and getting worse. His cough from late August turned into a massive tumor, despite multiple vet visits and medications.

Samantha flew to Fairbanks where she had just a couple days with Tico before he died.  He was the best dog.  I could write many books about his travels and adventures. He enjoyed a road trip on his last day, and although weak he remained on his feet and bright. We miss him a lot.  Samm did have a nice visit with our good friends Dean and Suz in Alaska, catching up. Suz keeps horses, too, so her and Samm always have lots to talk about.

Things seemed too simple, so I lost my phone about this time…

While Samm was in Alaska I drive the horse trailer to Washington where I got to visit with Steven before he shipped off to Marine Corp boot camp.  Isaac flew down as well. 

Samm flew back from Alaska to Seattle, and we picked up her horse Henry who had been on lease in Sequim.

With Henry and Samm onboard, we drove the California coast again stopping in San Luis Obispo, where Samm rode Henry in a Hackamore training clinic.  I watched and learned a lot.  Henry and our new horse Chief stayed in San Luis Obispo, while we headed south to pull Mikmaks out of the water in Ventura.

We got a chance to sail out to Catalina Island and do some hiking.  It was quiet, in the off season and was surprisingly normal.

On the way to Catalina, the prop seemed to vibrate more than I remembered.  I dove the next day, finding fishing net from the great Pacific Garbage patch on the prop.  A reminder of why we carry the gear.

The haul out in Ventura went well and we left the boatyard with all things secure, finally heading home.

We hustled up truck, trailer, horses and Justin’s truck and hit the road the day before Thanksgiving. If you have never driven the freeways of Los Angeles on the day before Thanksgiving, I don’t advise it. But if you do, don’t tow a horse trailer. It took 4 hours to go 100 miles. Generally, people were courteous, and we continue to be amazed at how nice people are in trying circumstances.

We spent Thanksgiving in the San Bernadino National Forest at a horse campground and hiked the trails with the horses.

By the time we got home to Pie-in-the-Sky, winter was breathing down our neck, but I got the dirt work done for the shop before the ground froze.

Jeremy came down to learn a few things and earn some money, while Samm flew to Canada for her sister’s wedding.

Samm made it back mid-month, and our friends from Washington arrived for a visit. Samm’s dad Jim came to visit for Christmas and our friends from Show Low came as well.  A whirlwind of progress ensued during the month of December.

We:

 -Painted the cabin floor,

 -replaced the propane stove,

-built a countertop with sink,

-laid flooring,

-installed a complete solar power system, wired the cabin for DC and AC lighting/USB charging and a water pump,

-framed the form work for pouring our shop slab,

- improved the driveway,

-tripled the size of the horse corral,

-put our Living Quarters horse trailer up for sale,

- purchased a stock horse trailer,

- rode motorcycles,

- rode horses

and finally got settled in here at home.

2021 was quite the year.  It seems like we went everywhere and saw everyone.  We suffered losses and enjoyed successes. We are grateful for our work, our friends, our families and this very moment.

Total Mileage: 

30000 miles driven on our truck, 10000 of those with horses in tow.

8000 miles of ocean sailing.

Are we ready?

I’m sitting in the very comfortable outside dining room of the Waikiki Yacht Club, on an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Because of internet, phone and electricity, I am not too hot, able to maintain my life administrative duties (taxes, subscriptions, etc.) and keep in touch with family and friends while being here. What a luxury!

A full moon in the big city. Waikiki Yacht Club poolside.

We arrived by sailboat exactly one month ago, after finishing respectably in the Transpacific Yacht Race (a sailboat race from Los Angeles to Honolulu). I say respectably because we were not last across the finish line (although we were last overall with our handicap).  We’re not really a racing sailboat, in type nor mission, obviously.   Anyway, the point is, we arrived here by sailboat. On our 2500-mile trip, with 8 crew total, we broke some things, learned some things, ate some things and thought many, many things (Are we there?” yet chief among these).

Now, we are readying the boat and crew to sail back to the mainland. It is just as strenuous a journey, but there won’t be an arrival committee to give us Mai Tais and leis, or a departure boat recording our start when we leave. It’ll just be us chickens, and I’ll let my dad know via intermittent satellite texts, where we are and how we’re doing. The crew is reduced to four: the owner and his son, Jesse, my husband and me, Samantha.  As we’re not racing, we will have the benefit of autopilot, so that’s almost another crew member.

This passage will take us north, nearly to the Canadian border, then east, as we sail around the North Pacific High. This particular weather feature is a big area of high pressure conveniently located directly south of the Gulf of Alaska, and, depending on the time of year and the vagaries of weather, it will be at a latitude north or south of central Oregon. The winds spin clockwise around high pressure systems in the Northern Hemisphere, so our course north from Hawaii will trace the western edge of the high, and then we will bear away east as we go over the top of the high.

Here is a picture of the high, circled in yellow, on a surface analysis chart for the Pacific (thank you NOAA):

Here you can see that the high is quite wide. Ideally for our passage the two H’s would be closer together.

The option to motor across the high, where the winds are light, is a possibility. That path would be shorter, probably shaving 5 days off our passage.  But that brings its own risks: if you have any engine problems, there isn’t quite enough wind to make way, leaving you at the mercy of the ocean until the high moves up or down, thus taking longer than it would have to sail, and you have burned more fuel, which means the time available to run the water maker and generator is reduced.

We like the self-sufficient notion that we have onboard the tools and skills to solve most problems that happen. Mikmaks also has a lot of redundancy built into her systems. Redundancy is the comforting idea that if something fails, another solution is available because of how the system is designed. A good example of this is the steering system – if the wheel came off the binnacle, we could still steer using the autopilot.

Chris Hatfield, a Canadian astronaut who spent a year at the International Space Station, wrote a book called the Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth. It’s a great read. In the book, he talks about how astronauts prepare for emergency situations. They start by trying to think about EVERYTHING that could go wrong. Then they plan for those situations. This takes the uncertainty out of the picture, which means astronauts can stay relaxed and focus on the task in front of them. They already know what to do if things go wrong, so they don’t need to figure it out in a panic. I like and use this type of planning. Thinking about the worst that could happen and then knowing what you would do in those situations makes the worst situations manageable.

To stretch the steering example into astronaut thinking - if we lost both the autopilot and the manual steering, we could use the emergency tiller and steer.  If we lose the rudder - and a boat in the 2019 Transpac did indeed lose their rudder – now that starts to be a big deal. But, because we take self-sufficiency preparation seriously, if the rudder came off, we would troubleshoot the problem, plug the hole, and take action to steer the boat using a jury-rigged tiller (probably the spinnaker pole) or using drogues off the stern to turn the boat. We have dive gear, two manual pumps installed in the boat, a handheld pump, and numerous ways to plug holes. If that didn’t work, and the boat was taking on water that we could not evacuate from the boat, we would deploy our emergency life raft and probably our dinghy and our ditch kit and declare Mayday and activate our EPIRB and rescue protocols.  There. We’ve thought of it, worked through the problem and have a plan.

Our pre-departure readiness list looks like this:

-systems in good working order with redundancies built in and functioning

-sails in good working order, especially heavy weather sails and reefing points on the main.

-lots of food in several forms – fresh, frozen (such a luxury, a freezer on board!), canned and dried. Freeze-dried meals are good in a pinch, but no one wants to eat them every day. We generally plan to have food for 2x the longest time estimate for our passage – in this case, 6 weeks.

-crew rested, in good health and mindset.

-Fuel and water tanks full, black water tank empty, batteries fully charged and engine, water maker and generator test run the day before departure.

-administrative items complete – information for the next marina, contact info and emails sent, instructions to family and friends about getting satellite texts (from strange numbers), and downloading any content not readily available while at sea.

-weather forecast good for the passage – don’t leave in bad weather. Your bad weather may not be the same as others. Our boat is very happy in an 8-10’ following sea in 25 knots.

-keep in mind that having to sail upwind back to your departure point will take longer and be harder on crew and equipment …3 days downwind sailing does not equal 3 days upwind. 8-10’ seas in 25 knots is NOT pleasant upwind sailing.

- settle up with the marina before you leave.

-boat shipshape, items stowed for sailing (loose items stowed, heavy items tied down and secured)

-folks that need to take meds for seasickness should start 12-24 hours prior to departure.

-satellite comms tested, operational and fully charged. **make sure your subscriptions are paid up**

We’re nearly set to depart Honolulu now. A hui ho – until we meet again, Hawaii friends.  Talk to you on the flip side.

Samantha