Gilbert and I are sitting in the restaurant across the street from Crescent City harbor, drinking coffee and patiently waiting for a tsunami to hit. We were first made aware of an imminent tsunami when the harbor master called us this afternoon, warning us about the high volume of water that was predicted to enter the the harbor at 9:15pm tonight. Three years ago Crescent City experienced a small tsunami which caused some serious damage destroying docks and boats. While we are enjoying the warmth of a heated building our boat floats surrounded by large fishing boats awaiting the flood. We have tied her to the dock with every heavy line we could find so she will stay attached to the dock whether or not the dock stays attached to the pilings. We have less then 10 minutes until the water comes so I'll let you all know how it goes. - Eliah

After a phone call to Norway and some deliberation, we have decided to rebuild a significant portion of our engine in Crescent City. Here we won't have to worry about the distractions of southern California - beeches, surfing, warm weather. Instead we can just focus on the engine.

The coast guard gave us a nice tow in after the engine incident. The issue is evidently caused by a valve spring which decided it was done being a part of the engine. It just so happens that a number of other critical parts neighboring the valve spring, in seeing their friend leave, immediately followed suit. And so, we are now left with a bent push rod and valve, a missing keeper washer and a damaged piston.
Our mechanic, Larry, assures us that the head block itself is sound and that this means we are very lucky. I sorta beg to differ but there is more than one way of looking at things. In any event we are hopeful that repairs will not take too long and that a weather window will open soon. But we take each day as it comes.

The passage itself was quite an adventure. We left Neah Bay, Washington at six in the evening Sep 17th and cleared Cape Flattery, the Westernmost point in the US at roughly seven. I guess I use the term "roughly" in more than one sense. Things continued to deteriorate for the next three days. Confused seas of up to 15ft caused a phenomenon affectionately known as "being maytagged" in which the boat would simultaneously pitch and roll at the same time as waves coming from two different directions jostled us. As I have learned, it is generally not the size of waves that makes them unpleasant, it is their shape, period, and direction. At the end of the third day I had managed to choke down 3 saltines and 4 figs, Andrew hadn't eaten a thing. Eliah and Steve are champs though and they did really swell (couldn't resist.) By the end of the fourth day Andrew and I were recovering just in time for conditions to get much worse.
A "thermal trough" developed south of us causing the wind to veer to the north (a welcome change as we were fighting for every mile southward up to this point.) The wind built and built throughout the day until we were in gale conditions. The wind tore past us at 50 knots on the evening of the 23rd. ICE NINE performed spectacularly, surfing down the waves at 10.5 knots at times. When the sun set though, we decided that it was too dangerous to be handling sails on deck or to be in the cockpit. After setting the sea anchor and lashing the hell out of everything we retreated to the cabin for a night of prayer. The next morning conditions were stil rough, but in the sunlight we continued on under storm jib and double reefed main. The sea anchor was lost - sheared right off. Things got slowly lighter and lighter until we had no wind at all and we started our trusty Norwegian engine... you know the rest.

A large relative of broccoli, Seqiuoa sempervirens or coast redwoods grow along the Californian coast in an area known as the fog belt.

We didn't have a good means of measuring the trees. But Eliah stood next to one and it was much taller than he is so, we can, without a doubt be sure that they are at least five feet eleven inches tall.

Shelf fungus on a redwood

Our heroes - note the tow line.

We gave them four bars of chocolate.

Thank you to everyone who pays taxes, we really appreciate it.

spray sunset

The crew - Port Townsend to Crescent City - 600 miles.

From left to right. Andrew Weekes (the affable Aussie,) Eliah, Gib, and Steve Rinker - (sail and coffee extraordinaire.) Steve is pretty much the reason we were able to do this offshore leg.

By the hair on our chinny chin chin. Crescent City, California has a fresh batch of boat bums.

The passage was a bit rough, we are no worse for the wear, our engine was not so lucky. We have a lot to do. More soon - Gib

We enjoyed a weekend at the wooden boat festival in Port Townsend - a lot of Mainers were representin'

The photos below were taken during the schooner race.

Our plans as of today are to leave for Neah Bay on the tip of Washington and wait for a weather window to head south to San Fran. So, until further notice, we will be out at sea and out of touch.

Captain Jeff Kendall - SV Pleiades - Traditionally rigged Pinky Schooner

SV Zodiak

New dinghy vs old dingy

Here is a rough itinerary, maybe a 10 grit at best. The large sphere is the earth in the center there with North and Central America surrounded by blue which is water. The red line is my future sunburned ears visible from space.

Courtesy of Google Earth

Pacific Madrone

Its the flying spaghetti monster!

sunrise Strait of Georgia

Hannah and a lot of jam

Lots of Vessels - Friday Harbor, San Juan Islands