View of Manhatten from the rooftop of the Brooklyn apartment we visited before departing JFK.

Alright all ye blog watchers, we on the boat apologize for the lack of content over the last two months.

Though it may seem that we fell off of the face of the earth, we of course did not. We took a hiatus, albeit an unannounced hiatus and returned to the motherland - Maine. This was both a good and a bad thing. We got a chance to refill the coffers and see family and friends, and we had ample time to think through our next move. And this is where the depressing bit comes in. After much knashing of teeth and pulling of hair, it seems that given the nature of the boat and the nature of nature itself, we cannot continue. Not now, not on this coast, not without winning the lottery.

So, thank you all for coming with us, it was very nice to read your comments, and to know that you were out there rooting for us.

In some capacity, we will continue to post. There is a large backlog of photos, and we continue to seek stories and adventures.

Big Bird

We've got the technology

Robert and Gib pulling the engine off of its mounts for further inspection.

We spoke to over half a dozen diesel mechanics as well as distributors and even the Norwegian manufacturer and we still don't know whats wrong with her.

We took off the outboard to re-position the bracket it was mounted on, and this is a time-lapse of the process.

We had a pod of about 50 Pacific White-sided dolphins come play with us one morning near Cape Mendocino

Now that we've spent a few days in Monterey, we've finally mustered the energy to re-live our exhausting 46-hour sail to share with our followers.

After spending a week inland in Davis, CA, Anna decided to come back for more adventures, and arrived in Bodega Bay on Tuesday afternoon. We got the boat ready to go, grabbed a short night’s sleep, and left Bodega Bay on Wednesday morning around 4:00. Dinghy in tow, the wind was calm, which gave us a chance to try out the new outboard. The verdict: it was mounted too high, which meant that it bounced in and out of the water, not giving us much forward propulsion. Ten minutes off the dock and the list of projects to do at the next port stop had already began. We were forced to become traditional sailors, only moving when the wind was blowing.

That afternoon the winds filled in out of the NNW, which meant we’d be sailing down-wind for this leg. We rounded Point Reyes again, knowing we were still within range of the Bodega Bay Coast Guard if anything were to go wrong. Fortunately it didn’t, and that night we passed by the Farralon Islands and crossed 3 shipping lanes outside of San Francisco, successfully avoiding all traffic.

Early the next morning the auto-pilot, who had been our most valuable watch-member, became disabled when part of the bracket fell off. With Gilbert alone on watch (and Eliah and Anna comfortably asleep below), he found himself tied to the tiller, and not able to do anything else on deck. He watched, not able to prevent it from happening, as the whisker-pull broke and fell overboard, and as our Genoa jib became tangled in itself, its sheets, and the spinnaker halyard .

The swell built throughout the day, and outside of Monterey Bay we were in steady 15+ foot seas. This time no one got sea-sick, but no one was too interested in cooking or eating either. One 18-foot wave pooped our cockpit (crashed into the cockpit, for our non-sailor followers) and filled it up. Fortunately our hatch-covers proved to be water-tight, as no water leaked below deck. Another wave flipped our dinghy, which essentially turned it into a sea-anchor. Eliah re-led the tow line and hauled it in on one of our winches, and we made it off to our Starboard side, where it would sit for the remainder of the journey.

At about 10:00 Thursday night, we were 4 miles off of Monterey when the wind died. Not wanting to be traditional-style sailors in an area of traffic, we started the outboard and motored in for those last 4 miles, a journey which took us 4 hours. We came into the marina about 2:30 AM Friday morning, gorged ourselves on fast-food, and went to sleep.

Now we’re in Monterey Bay, and we’re excited that we finally made it to an intended destination. Monterey is famous for its marine life, and we’ve seen seals, sea lions and sea otters since arriving.
-Written by Anna Peters

Awww.

We made it to Monterey. Yay.

It was another rough ride though. Not so yay.
The city looks pretty cool though - we'll put up some good photos soon.
And... stay tuned for details about our last transit because it was very swell.

More friends - actually, they aren't that friendly. They bark really loud all night, they are basically 800 pound aquatic dobermans.

While cleaning barnacles off of a fellow cruiser's prop one of these gals came and checked me out - I'm glad she wasn't that interested in me.

Furry friends - Eureka bay (taken awhile ago)

We've decided, at least for the time being, not to try to repair our main engine, as nothing we've tried so far keeps her happy for very long. Instead, we picked up a new outboard in San Francisco, and will be betting our lives, or at least our pride, on it working for us. Anna, our third crew member for the California section of our sailing, went home from Bodega Bay, but is coming back today, and our plan is to get under way and see how far South we can get. Stay posted!

Here we are in the public marina of scenic but gray Bodega Bay.

Eliah, Gilbert and Anna enjoying a gentle, albeit chilly, tow back to Bodega Bay.

These guys were as stoked to help us as we were to get (another) free tow. We would have bought them drinks in Bodega Bay, except there's no bar in the whole town, which they failed to mention when they asked if we wanted a tow to Bodega Bay.

Eliah and Gilbert make every decision together, down to what they wear for the day.

On October 9th at about 0700, Gilbert was on watch and Eliah and Anna were asleep below, recovering after a rough rounding of Cape Mendocino, which involved 30+knots of wind, and 10-12 foot seas. We were about 6 miles WSW of Point Reyes, about 30 miles off of San Francisco, when our engine sucked a valve into the cylinder and died. Again. Gilbert wasted no time shutting down the engine, and Eliah hailed the San Francisco Coast Guard to see if they could get us in touch with a tow company. The Bodega Bay (about 50 miles N of SF) Coast Guard picked up on our call, and sent a vessel out to check on us. When they got there they asked if we wanted a tow back to Bodega Bay. While not our intended destination, a free tow is a free tow so we accepted. Now we’re in Bodega Bay, which was where Hitchcock’s The Birds was filmed in 1963, and it appears as if the guano has been accumulating on the docks ever since. Stay posted for some pictures of this last voyage, and some videos of our broken engine.

It looks like we are finally getting the weather window we've been waiting for. - Once again, we are southbound.

I can safely say that it was the largest and worst tsunami I have ever been through. Although, i'm not exactly the most qualified to speak on the subject. At 9:20 it tore into the harbor - all 6 inches of it. We sat in the restaurant looking down at the marina - where to our horror - nothing happened. - Gib

Crescent City Boat Harbor

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

Well, after being held up on Quadra Island, British Columbia waiting for a new propeller to be shipped from Florida we have finally made it back to the US.

We spent the last nine days working hard to get the boat ready for offshore passage to San Francisco before nasty weather rolls in from the north. There are still a number of make or break situations to resolve but I think that a majority of the work is behind us. Some of the the improvements include a self steering windvane, new removable inner forestay, new sails; jib, storm jib, and spinnaker, a new marine head, raw water plumbing, engine overhaul, fresh railstripe, and coming soon radar, AIS, and single side band radio reciever for offshore weather.

There are some changes in crew. Hannah is back in Indiana at Earlham college and we are joined by Steve Rinker and Shawn Cole for the next leg. Despite the hectic nature of numerous and diverse projects all within the same few feet of airspace, the four of us are already working together like a well oiled SABB engine . Thats about it for now. - Gib

The Queen!

Giant sea urchins - the same color as mashed blackberries.

Blackberries were in season on Quadra - we made 3 gallons of jam.

Then on a crossing in the first bit of nasty weather we've had, I couldn't hold down a meal of pancakes smothered in the stuff and i've lost any inclination of eating it. - Gib

Snorkeling in long underwear

dingy on Quadra public dock

Doug Fir log on Quadra Island

Empty log barge north end of Vancouver Island.

Working hard in Port Townsend. Will add more soon.

Unfouling the propeller.

A car in the woods a long way from a road

purple sea star

Keeping a close count on calories.

That is a sea star - not a starfish.

Orcas in Johnstone Strait

This is a sea anemone fruitcake.