Published: July 02, 2007 02:11 pm         

Oh, to be at Sea

He has run for political office. Despite his adventurous life and accomplishments, even Tim Davis sounds in awe when speaking of his son’s adventures. Paul Davis, 31, went to Alaska in 2000 as a corporate field geologist. While working throughout Alaska, Paul discovered a love for climbing the Alaskan rocks, glaciers and mountains. In 2003, Paul traded his geology work to pursue a career of mountain climbing and fishing off the Alaskan coast. A year later, he owned an acre of land on Admiralty Island and was heading a business of guided fishing, kayak tours, and mountain climbing. “Paul also purchased a 24-foot aluminum Hewescraft with cabin to protect him from the elements as he fished the turbulent winter waters of Alaska,” Tim Davis notes. Paul had planned building a cabin on his land, but instead purchased a home and a business on the sea. In the Port Townsend, Wash., shipyard, Paul found the Gallant Girl, a 65-foot, double-ender, wooden fishing trawler with a history of its own adventures. Built in 1962, in Nova Scotia by Wagstaff & Hatfield boatbuilders, the Gallant Girl was a “fish-packer” for the Canadian Fisheries for several years. To reach her Pacific destination, she made her away across the Atlantic through the Panama Canal and “began hauling salmon and herring cargos from smaller Canadian fishing boats along the coastline of British Columbia.” Following years of fish-packing, the Gallant Girl was purchased by a Hollywood set-carpenter and her fish holds were converted into a galley, dining area, full bathroom, several staterooms, and a workshop. Given the Gallant Girl’s history and design, it was the right boat for Paul’s desire to start Gallant Adventures, an Alaskan fishing tour business for the state’s busy summer tourist season (www.gallantadventuresalaska.com). Though the Gallant Girl was seaworthy, Paul wanted to ensure she remained that way in the waters of Alaska. Given she was already dry-docked in Port Townsend, home of the famed Port Townsend Wooden Boat Building School, he decided to have the Gallant Girl refitted. Paul lived aboard the dry-docked boat for seven months as he worked and learned alongside professional shipwrights. This past December, Paul visited his father and mother, Donna Davis, at their Lake Park home, where he talked Tim into joining him for the completion of the boat and the winter trek by sea from Port Townsend, Wash., to Kake, Alaska. In late January, Tim joined his son and spent nearly the next month working with Paul and the shipwrights of the Boat Building School refitting the Gallant Girl. Among the shipwrights were Dave Thompson, 64, who has been a shipwright for 35 years and has regularly been on the sea since the age of 4, and Ozzie Anderson, Thompson’s apprentice. By mid-February, Paul set out on his ship with Tim, Thompson and Anderson. For the next couple weeks, the group made their way north through freezing waters, perilous passes, and a beautiful combination of sea and land. Tim Davis is a proud father of his son’s accomplishments and their recently shared adventure. Still, Tim often had to remind himself that he may be Paul’s father but, on the Gallant Girl, Paul is the skipper and Tim was the cook. “I caught myself a couple times,” Tim says. “Before I left, my wife, Donna, told me a couple times to remember that Paul’s the captain and I’m not daddy on that boat.” Throughout the journey, Tim couldn’t help but recall the boy he had spent weekends taking camping and hiking in the woods, the boy who has grown into a man, a captain, an adventurer. TIM DAVIS’ JOURNAL August 2000: Paul moved to Anchorage, Alaska, and took a field geologist position with an Alaska native corporation. He did environmental geology work throughout Alaska. He developed a love for mountains and started climbing ice and rocks and summited many Alaskan mountains. I made several aggressive trips to climb glaciers and mountains along the Alaskan coast and the Alaskan interior. May 2003: Paul left his geology job to pursue a career outdoors climbing mountains and fishing the waters of the Alaskan coast. May 2004: Paul purchased an acre lot on Admiralty Island near Angoon. Angoon is a Tlingit (pronounced “kling-it”) Indian Village. Paul’s girlfriend, Emily, was a teacher in the village school. Paul started a guided fishing business, and also supplemented the business with kayaking tours and mountain climbing. Paul also purchased a 24-foot, aluminum Hewescraft with cabin to protect him from the elements as he fished the turbulent winter waters of Alaska. August 2004: I told Paul that upon my forthcoming retirement I’d fly to Angoon and help him build a cabin on his remote beach property. August 2006: Paul called mom Donna and I and told us he decided against building a cabin and was going to expand his adventure and guide business with a large wooden boat. He initiated a lengthy search for a large wooden vessel in Alaska and Washington State. His journey led him to the Port Townsend, Wash., shipyard. This adventure warranted many telephone calls with Paul, as he is a kindly son who wanted to share this adventure with his pop. It was also nice that he sought my advice and counsel since purchasing and refurbishing a large wooden boat was no small undertaking. September 2006: Paul found a 65-foot, “double-ender,” wooden fishing trawler tied to the marina in Port Townsend. Her name was Gallant Girl. Gallant Girl had an interesting history. In 1962 she was built in Port Greeville, Nova Scotia, by renowned wooden boat builders Wagstaff and Hatfield. According to the builder’s archives, Gallant Girl was built for the Canadian Fisheries and was built as a “fish-packer.” She had two large fish holds amidships and was built to store about 60,000 pounds of fish. Gallant Girl was motored from Nova Scotia through the Panama Canal and began hauling salmon and herring cargos from smaller Canadian fishing boats along the coastline of British Columbia. Gallant Girl’s forward boom was used to load the salmon into her iced fishing holds and she would take the fish to the fish-processing plants. Gallant Girl is powered by a single, 8-cylinder Detroit Diesel which was recently rebuilt. Several years ago, Gallant Girl was purchased by a retired couple who began an aggressive conversion from fishing boat to liveaboard. The owner was a retired Hollywood movie-set carpenter. He removed the fish holds and used this space to insert a galley, dining area, full bathroom, several staterooms and a workshop. He also replaced many of the original wooden ribs and planks since the boat was due for an overhaul. After his untimely death more than a year ago, his widow put the boat on the market. Paul hired a boat surveyor to determine the seaworthiness of the boat. Gallant Girl was certified as seaworthy, but Paul decided to haul the boat from the water and placed her in drydock for final refitting. Paul explained that Port Townsend is the home of the famous Port Townsend Wooden Boat Building School. This school graduates many shipwrights who earn their living repairing and building wooden boats and ships, and many of these artisians practice their trade in Port Townsend. Paul planned to hire local shipwrights to help refit the boat, and he also hoped to apprentice with them so he could refit the boat in future years since wooden boats require constant maintainence. Paul lived aboard Gallant Girl for 7 months in drydock as she underwent refitting. During a Christmas trip home to Lake Park in 2007, Paul urged me to travel to Port Townsend to help him finish Gallant Girl and motor her in the winter waters from Washington State to Kake, Alaska. Paul planned to operate his business out of Sitka and Petersburg, Alaska, and the native village of Kake is between these two tourist and fishing towns. I reminded Paul that Canadian and Alaskan winter Pacific waters were no picinic and asked him to wait until spring. No deal. He wanted to get his boat to Alaska to get ready for the summer guide business, and he also was tired of paying $1,200 per month drydock fees. I told his mom, Donna, that if he went down in the winter ocean I was going down with him, so I agreed to help him finish the boat and motor from Washington to Alaska. LOG ENTRIES FOR ARRIVAL AT PORT TOWNSEND SHIPYARD January 28, 2007: Arrive Port Townsend after dark. ... Weather “predictably unpredictable” ... The Pacific Northwest is a misty, cold, seldom-seen sun climate in the winter. ... Paul takes me to the boat ... an intimidating vessel in drydock ... hull exposed making it look very imposing ... 20-foot ladder from ground to deck ... wonder how many times I’ll be climbing up that ladder during the next month while Paul and I finish this monster boat. She is a beauty though and she looks tough and unique ... climbed aboard and took bunk over workbench since it was near the woodstove and electric heater. Glad we have electricity because it is cold ... damp bone cold, but Paul assures me I’ll get used to it ... hit the rack and say my prayers that Paul and I can finish this 7-month project without incident. January 29: Wake up at 6 a.m. Paul’s up early to get the day’s work started. Coffee from Micky-D’s across the street from shipyard. Daylight brings a new perspective on the boat. Gallant Girl is BIG and I don’t know how we’re going to get this small ship??? to Alaska since it will take some talent and experience to motor this big old girl. My biggest concern is the marina. Can we maneuver this boat in tight spaces?? How much is insurance? That’s a BIG anchor and winch. How are we going to handle that when we drop anchor in a remote bay in the “middle of no-where” Canada or Alaska?? Paul takes me on a detailed tour. I’m impressed at all the work he’s done during the past 7 months. He replaced the ribs (frames??) on the starboard side. He replaced the planks on the starboard side. He re-corked the seams between the planks. Paul explained that the boat was a “carvel-plank” vessel. The planks and ribs and frame are all tied together with fastener ... stainless nuts and bolts tie it all together. Reminds me of an aircraft frame construction, except made from wood instead of aluminum or metal alloy. Lots to learn today and I’m asking questions more than necessary, but the construction or refitting alone is a new adventure and warrants a good inquiry. Paul remains patient and attempts to educate me about the boat’s construction and refitting. The ribs are live oak. Paul replaced 34 ribs. Seems that the previously removed fish-holds (where the previous owner converted this space to a galley, bathroom, dining area and second stateroom) were insulated for ice storage and fish preservation. The “fresh water” condensation created some rot on the ribs enveloping the fish-holds. Paul explained that salt water is good and fresh water is very BAD. Paul previously shared many thoughts and experiences about the boat, and this first day really brought it into focus. He had endured a two-month search for the ribs/frames to replace the 34 that enveloped the former fish-holds. He located them in Central Oregon. Seems that they had to be “freshly cut” (i.e., “green”) white-oak without knots or blemishes, meaning straight-grain. They are 4 inches x 4 inches (i.e., 4 x 4s) and 12 feet long. Paul and a shipwright drive to Oregon and had the ribs freshly cut and hauled them back to Port Townsend. The lumber was lathered in linseed oil and placed in a steambox for about 4 hours (one hour per inch). After the ribs were removed from the steambox they were malleable and thus could be literally pounded down along the sides of the vessel and attached to the keel and planks with fasteners. The planks were western larch which is a local wood milled from Washington and Oregon forests. The planks on Gallant Girl were two-inches thick. The seams between the planks were “corked??” Paul explained that the corking was comprised of a cotton fabric, hemp and a putty. He took a month or more to scrape out the old putty and another month to replace the new putty. The seams looked pretty big. “Paul, those are big seams. Aren’t they gonna leak?” Paul and one of his young shipwright buddies explained that because the boat was in drydock for 7 months she was very dry and the wood had shrunk considerably, but “not to worry, Pops, because when we put this girl back into the water she’ll swell and the seams will seal.” (I hope so). It’s now 10 a.m. day one for me, by routine for Paul and he’s got shipwrights to pay so it’s off to work. Paul assigns me to help him reattach the bulworks onto the coverboard along the top edge of the starboard side. This is hard work. January 30: Up at 6 a.m. again and we have much to do. Seems nothing is easy and takes 5 times longer than anticipated. Bulwarks and custom cutting some exotic wood that covers the bulwarks. Paul was VERY patient with me today. He taught me how to take a thin veneer and cut it with a razor-knife to make a pattern on some type of expensive exotic wood that costs way too much to screw up so I better not make a mistake. I took the wood over to Old shipwright Dave Thompson’s woodshed and cut the 6' long section of bulwork cover with the large bandsaw ... VERY CAREFULLY ... now, attach, shape and stain and seal — an all-day project. Pooped at 9:30 p.m. No more notes ... sleep on bunk ... got up in middle of the night to get a drink of water and forgot (AGAIN!) that a “knee” of live oak was immediately above my head where I was sleeping and I banged my head for the 20th time when I sat up (note to self: rearrange my sleeping position, stupid.) This boat is cozy, but space is out of necessity efficient so you’re not going to do jumping jacks or piouette below-deck without bruising something ... January 31: Last day in January. We got at least 3 or 4 more weeks to go. Coffee at 6:30 today ... forced Paul to take the morning and explain a few things ... his diesel heaters, they’re made by Dickinson and very efficient ... gravity-fed from diesel “day-tanks” secured on the deck. Sort of a drip process and constant slow-burning process in the burn-box ... very simple and impressive. Paul explains that we’re going to install another one in the Pilothouse within the next couple of days. Spent most of the day inserting heater fuel lines into conduit and securing the conduit under the bulwarks and other nooks and crannies to protect the lines from damage. February 1: Finished the conduit project and tackled the installation of the Dickinson heater in the pilothouse ... very cautious as we had to cut a hole in the roof of the pilothouse to install the flue. Another long day: 6:30 a.m. until almost 9 p.m., with only lunch. No wonder Paul looks so skinny. He’s thinner than when he was running in college. February 2: Helped paint the port side of the boat above the waterline. Weather window was barely adequate ... a little sun today. Went to a nice tavern in town ... rode bicycles to the tavern and ate big burgers ... shot pool with Paul. It occurred to me that he and I never shot pool together, so we “partnered-up” and took on a couple of his young shipwright buddies. They slaughtered us, as it was apparent Paul’s poor pool shots are hereditary. These young shipwrights are great kids. They have a real passion for wooden boats and the ocean. I’m beginning to see them as real artists working with ancient tools and wood. They recognize this is an art that will soon be lost to technology and less labor-intensive construction, but this is their passion Nice to be around them. Rode back to the boat and felt like a young man again. Cold drizzle in my face as Paul and I raced the bikes back from town to the shipyard at 11 p.m. I’m on a 21-speed street bicycle wearing heavy work clothes and leather hunting boots greeting “vegetarians on bikes” wearing helmets, tights, reflective vests, and pedal-powered flashing tail lights. FEBRUARY 3-15 SUCCINCT NOTES FROM JOURNAL — finished two more coats of white enamal paint on port and starboard sides above waterline. — painted black strip at the waterline. — painted one more coating of bottom paint (below waterline) with a very expensive copper-based paint at about $100 per gallon. — installed mast cables and brackets ... big job, took all day ... everything takes 5 times longer than you think, and Paul naively underestimates the completion date, another genetic defect inherited from his pop. But I do love his can-do spirit and eternal optimism but I gotta keep this in mind when we start the trip in a few weeks ... that winter ocean along the Pacific Northwest will be treacherous waters. Had a talk with Paul and he plans to hire someone experienced with LARGE boats and rough winter seas to tutor him as we motor north ... whew!!!!! — Paul talked to Dave Thompson this morning. Dave owns the woodshop and is not only a senior shipwright, but he is also an elected port commissioner ... great guy, 64 years old and has been on the sea since he was 4 years old ... 60 years. Dave mentioned that he never traveled to Alaska and that a winter trip would be a cool experience. Paul asked him to help and mentor him as we motored north. Dave surprised us and volunteered to go. Then one of Paul’s shipwright pals, Ozzie Anderson, asked if he could go. Absolutely, and our crew problems were solved. We now had two experienced, talented and great guys to crew the boat. I’ll be cooking and doing other chores requiring less talent but I'm glad to have a mentor with Paul as he transitions to this larger boat (or is it a ship?). Dave and Ozzie start taking a deeper interest in Gallant Girl’s last-minute progress because the winter Pacific Ocean will, as Dave stated, “Make a believer out of you.” Now I have a crew of four to feed so its off to the grocery store for more provisions. Gotta prepare for delays as we duck winter storms so Paul suggests we plan to cook for a month for 4 guys, and as I leave to shop Paul reminds me that Ozzie eats at least twice as much as a normal man so load up on everything. OK, I think, I’ll shop for five men instead of four. — many last minute engine repairs ... seems that 8 months in drydock not only causes the wood to shrink, but the engine gaskets and other engine components made of rubber have undergone some decay so Paul and I replaced all these items at considerable expense. Oil changed ... required about 7 gallons (doesn’t my car only use 5 quarts?)!! — Big project several days before hitting the water was to open the hatches on the fuel tanks and clean them out ... a two-day job: We siphoned the diesel from the bottom of the two tanks ... each tank is about 400 gallons, or an 800-gallon fuel capacity. (I wonder what kind of “mileage” we’ll get with this monster Detroit Diesel engine?). Paul bought plenty of fuel filters but decided to clean out the tanks. We forced the bolts from the fuel-tank hatches and Paul climbed into each tank (with a respirator) and scraped down the sides and bottom of the tanks while I used a wet-vac to suction out the residue and corrosion. We filled two five gallon buckets with this muck ... a shipwright opined that the tanks had never been cleaned. They’re clean now, and this will ensure no fuel-line clogging in the future. I learned that bacteria and fungus actually grow and proliferate in diesel fuel ... incredible! — Many little projects from 6 a.m. to 9 or 10 p.m. each day getting Gallant Girl ready. The longer I live aboard the more I love this boat ... glad Paul asked me to help him finish the final touches. This has been a great month, just like when he was a little boy and I’d help him on a school project, only this time he’s in charge and I’m the student. February 15: Last day “on the hard” as Paul often referrs to the drydock status. A giant lift at 9 a.m., so we had to paint one last coat of copper-based bottom paint at daylight. Painted like mad-men on a holy mission ... had just an hour to paint the entire bottom of a 65-foot boat. Seems that you need one last coat of bottom paint just before a wooden boat in placed in the water. Has something to do with barnacle prevention? In the water ... Paul's been warning me that it’s going to really, really leak so don’t get crazy on him. It leaked but not as bad as most — a testament to the great corking job in the seams between the planks.ne small leak was squirting vertical, but Paul used some handy wooden shims to tackle the bigger leaks. Little leaks along the bottom near the keel, but a shipwright described them as “healthy” so I’m back cool again. Bilge pumps on and active and so the wood is beginning to shrink, but this girl will leak for about a week or two until the wood swells with saltwater and thus seals the seams between the planks. February 16: Engine recently rebuilt and Paul anticipates 10,000 hours before another rebuild. Cranked it up in the water for the first time and it runs great. Glad for that since it is a single engine, but the shipyard mechanic reinforces my confidence about the engine’s reliability. Good news considering we’re going to motor almost a thousand miles up the Canadian and Alaskan coastline. Alaskan fisherman Charlie and his son came by with “good luck smoked wild salmon.” Charlie and many other Alaskan fishermen spend their winters in Port Townsend, WA, with their boats in drydock. They motor up to Alaska in early summer and fish during the summer season when waters are calm. Charlie is fond of Paul and takes a few minutes to review some nautical charts, and he also shares some “inside secrets” regarding remote anchorages we may use to duck the storms and gales that pound the Pacific coastline. I’m all for this and we mark the locations which Paul promptly programs in his Garmin gps electronic chart plotter. Young people are hip on electronics. Paul takes the time to show me how this Garmin 3210 map chart plotter works. It will “straight-line” guide you to each pre-programed gps coordinate and also reflects the water’s depth, location of rocks, buoys, marinas and all fixed objects that may pose a threat to the boat. February 17: Boat is taking on less water. Seams are sealing nicely which makes me happy because we’re leaving tomorrow. Paul meets with diesel mechanic and shipwright Barry ... another artisian and great down-to-earth guy. Barry helps Paul adjust the propeller shaft’s stuffing box. What is a stuffing box? I watch and learn that the stuffing box is a sealed box filled with a fabric stuffing that keeps the ocean from leaking into the boat around the propeller shaft. The stuffing box leaks (one drop every 5 seconds or thereabouts) because it needs to be wet to reduce shaft friction when the shaft is turning the propeller. The leak drips into the bilge and is, of course, pumped out via the bilge pumps. It all makes sense all these components work collectively to motor the boat through the water. Paul has extras for emergencies ... water pump, oil, extra hoses, bilge pumps, cloth oil absorption “diapers,” and many other extras for open ocean emergencies ... Gumby suits aboard. Paul explains how to don these cold-water survival suits in the event of an emergency (how cold will the water be?) Last night in port, Paul has a “going away thank you” party aboard Gallant Girl so I make myself scarce until midnight. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day, 8 months of hard toil and Paul’s life-savings are about to be tested by rough seas and harsh climate. I’m pumped and full of anticipation as I drift off to sleep at 1 a.m. THE TRIP February 18: It’s almost 2 a.m. on Feb 19 as I write my journal entry for the 18th. This was one of the most eventful and exciting days of my life. At 6 a.m., Dave and Paul motor Gallant Girl out of the tight marina to the fuel dock while Ozzie and I work the lines (rope) on the marina. I’m still having trouble tying knots and securing the boat to the marina. Ozzie patiently provides a quick lesson for the third time today. We’re fueled and off into our first measure of Gallant Girl’s seaworthiness, into the Strait of Juan De Fuca. Dave described this body of water as potentially one of the roughest bodies of water along the Pacific Northwest coast. The Strait of Juan De Fuca funnels winter Pacific winds and tides between Canada’s Vancouver Island and Washington State’s Olympic Peninsula. Winter Pacific winds are exacerbated by the mountains on the peninsula and the Island. Our first day’s destination was Nanaimo, British Columbia, where we planned to clear Canadian customs. We hoped to make Nanaimo before nightfall, but this was not the case and we almost met disaster entering Nanaimo’s port ... and there were many other “adventures” on our first day at sea, and boy am I glad to be tied up at a marina safe and sound. This is going to be an adventure to say the least. It began with a $3 simple check valve (a valve that allows the water in the bilge to be pumped out and also keeps the sea water from flowing back into the boat)... seems that the main bilge pump in the engine room was the most important pump since the engine room was the low point for water leaking into the bilge ... though the boat’s seams and wood were gradually swelling and will eventually seal themselves, we were still taking on water when we left. About two hours into the Strait of Juan De Fuca we hit rough water and winds which hit us on our port side as we motored north toward the San Juan Islands and Canada. Because of our northly direction we were traveling in the wave trough which constantly rolled us side-to-side in pretty rough water. Just after the weather worsened Paul called for me to help him in the engine room ... a little glitch caused a real serious problem ... that $3 check valve was malfunctioning and the bilge pump couldn’t pump out the water from the bilge ... a real potential problem. For two hours I’m laying on my stomach in the engine room, next to a monster diesel engine, while rolling from side-to-side, responding to Paul’s command, “GO!!” Here's what we did to pump the water out from the bilge: I would disconnect the hose from the check-valve connection, poke my finger into the valve to open it up, reconnect the hose, and yell for Paul to activate the pump. We did this for almost 2 hours and finally the boat began to miraculously seal itself and water was no longer a threat. Paul makes another journal entry to buy some extra check valves in Nanaimo tomorrow and I jokingly offer to loan him the money since I really don’t want to spend another day rolling around on the floor in the engine room. We finally found calmer and protected waters inside the Strait of Georgia as we motored along the shoreline of Vancouver Island. Things were looking up. We actually had some sunlight, the waters were calm and the boat was running great. Dave was still at the helm and getting a feel for the boat. He liked the way Gallant Girl rolled back upright after rolling to starboard in the trough ... so did I, as I learned today that I like to be upright in the ocean, especially when the ocean temperature is 42 degrees F !!!!!!!!!!!!! As darkness approached, we were still about 2 hours from Naniamo so Paul and Dave decided to motor into the darkness until we reached the Nanaimo marina. I wasn’t too hip on this idea as we had decided not to motor in the dark unless it was absolutely necessary. Paul, Dave and Ozzie pored over the charts and decided that there were no suitable anchorages which permitted us to avoid the direct winds of gales (they were constantly forecasted on the marine radio) so we had no choice but to proceed with caution to Nanaimo. At least we had intermittent starlight when darkness fell. Dave watched the radar closely and steered along the course projected by the GPS plotter so we wern’t too concerned about a collision with rocks or large boats, but we were concerned with small surface impediments such as floating logs (a real threat in the Pacific Northwest) because the water surface chop was affecting the radar. In any event, as we approached the Nanaimo harbor we saw the red and green bouy lights, and our trusty GPS plotter was directing us to the marina. Dave was still at the helm and Ozzie was on lookout inside the pilothouse with Dave. Paul and I bundled up and went forward to the bow to use spotlights in the event we saw a log or small boat on anchor floating in our path. As we entered the mouth of the harbor Paul and I noticed two dimly lit white lights about 100 feet apart. I mean this was right in the middle of the harbor entrance, so we were really concerned about what these two lights represented. Staring intensely ahead, simultaneously, Paul and I realized that the two white lights delineated the front and rear of a large log boom and we were only about 200 feet from a collision. Paul and I started yelling back at the pilot house while holding onto the mast cables instinctively anticipating a collision. Thankfully, Ozzie and Dave also saw the boom and Dave threw the engine in full reverse to slow the boat. Paul and I clutched the cables and awaited the impact as the boat slowed from 10 knots to 9, 8, 7, 6,5, 4 ... BOOM!! We hit a huge log perpendicular and it was thrown up into the air abour 8 feet, but the good news was that the logs were attached loosely and therefore had some “give,” and we also hit them perpendicular so they did not penetrate the hull. Paul and Ozzie ran below decks and checked out the hull near the bow ... OK, no penetration ... whew. We pulled into the marina at maybe 8:30 and stayed aboard. As Paul called Canadian customs, I fixed dinner and coffee while we awaited customs. Paul’s first day calculations were: Average speed: 9 knots Fastest speed: 13.1 knots Total distance covered: 93.2 nautical miles Customs came aboard at about 10:00 ... said no one travels this time of year ... very suspicious ... why not? two old guys and two young guys ... unshaven, covered in paint, grease and diesel fuel ... checked passports ... Paul told them we’re on the way to Alaska to deliver Gallant Girl early to get ready for the summer tourist season ... don’t think Customs agents believed us, so they searched vessel for almost 2 hours ... another reason I think they were suspicious was that Paul had his rifles and shotguns, and plenty of large handgun ammo, but no handguns because handguns are expressly prohibited ... but when Customs saw the handgun ammo they decided to search every nook and cranny of the boat ... finally, they gave up, declined an offer for late dinner, and gave us a “cleared Customs” document to post in the window of the pilothouse ... off to bed. February 19-20: Stayed in Nanaimo for several days replacing check valves and other minor repairs such as replacing the fuel equalizer hose between the twin fuel tanks in the engine room, and did some minor electrical repairs. Seems that many of the electrical connections were loose from the drydock and refitting, so when we rolled and twisted in the water some of the electrical connections were disconnected. Repairs made, boat coming together ... had some good times in Nanaimo ... good food and great Canadian beer. February 20: Motored north. Wind at over 20 knots but Gallant Girl is a stable boat. We continued over 50 nautical miles and dropped anchor at one of Paul’s pre-programed anchorages to duck the weather. It’ called “Blubber Bay,” and we’re just south of Campbell River, BC. Water calm and air temperature climbs to 28 F so we sleep well after big dinner of tuna casserole. I’m getting better at cooking for 4 hungry men. Glad we bought lots of food because Ozzie eats 3 times more than a normal man, and the rest of us are eating pretty hardy too. Cold and hard work makes a big appetite. February 21: Pulled up anchor in Blubber Bay and headed to Campbell River. Winds hit 40 knots and water was some scary stuff. We decided to stay over in Campbell River and await decent weather. Dave gave Paul some great lessons today. They took Gallant Girl into the very tight marina with only several feet to spare on either side, and in heavy wind nonetheless. Ozzie and I jumped onto the marina and tied up. Cold and windy and the winds were climbing to 60 or 70???? Glad we were at a marina. February 22: Best day yet. Left Campbell River with good weather and entered Johnstone Strait motoring with the tide. I learned several days ago that the relative speed of the boat is contingent upon the engine speed, wind, cargo and tide movement. It seems that Johnstone Strait is a very tight body of water severely affected by the flood and ebb of the tide. Dave says that the tide speed may exceed 12 knots per hour. If Gallant Girl moves on quiet water at 10 knots, we will drift backwards !! So, Paul and Dave calculate the tides. We leave at 9 a.m. and hit the strait just right ... calm and we’re “flying” at speeds up to 16.4 knots, so we’re making some good time. We arrived at our day’s destination, Port Hardy, for a total distance of 108.3 nautical miles. Great day!!! Great boat!!! Great crew!!!!!!! Tied up at Port Hardy marina. BTW, PH is the last stop on Vancouver Island before we hit open Pacific Ocean waters, so my inner anticipation is starting to build. February 23: Left Campbell River (and Vancouver Island) early and entered Queen Charlotte Sound (QCS). This is big water and big waves and Gallant Girl was lost momentarily between the Pacific swells only to “resurface for another try. But once again, another winter storm was forecasted for the afternoon, so we had to navigate about 50 nautical miles in the exposed winter Pacific around a point of land aptly named, Cape Caution. This was an interesting day. Weather wasn’t too bad but weather warnings for the afternoon called for a gale with winds up to 80 knots blowing in by afternoon. It was as if we were racing the storm to get clear of the exposed Pacific and beat the stom as we entered Fitzhugh Sound and shelter from the open Pacific behind Calvert Island. We made it and watched the weather move in south of us as if we had been given a reprieve. There was something special about today. Anticipation of the gale force winds and consequences heighten one’s senses and awareness. And perhaps because there were no other vessels on the water that day, a playful group of porpoises showed up to welcome us into calmer waters. I likened their arrival as Fitzhugh Sound’s “playful sentinels” greeting and accompanying all visitors who escaped the impending storm. Lots of “renegade” logs out there today. The helm is a lot of responsibility and we all took turns. Dave is quite a character. He has a bagfull of limericks and keeps us in stitches. Finally docked at Sheerwater near British Columbia native village, Bella Bella. I mean in the middle of nowhere. Some fishermen were tending their nets as we pulled into the marina just before dark and they came over to Gallant Girl and recognized her from her days at sea before conversion to a liveaboard. GG picked up their fish and took the fish to the processing plant so they knew her well. We covered 101.5 nautical miles today. Ate dinner at a pool hall/restaurant/strip joint, and the food was good, but we left before the strippers showed up. Why all the native women and no men??? Oh, it was a male stripper night and many local women from the village showed up anticipating a male stripper from Vancouver. Rather surreal to see such a spectacle in the middle of nowhere. We left Port Hardy early in the day with storm warnings with winds up to 80 knots per hour not knowing what the day’s events held, and we ended the day at a strip club in a native village known as Bella Bella. February 24: Leave Bella Bella for our final stop in Canada, Prince Rupert, but correctly guessed we would not make that destination because, guess what, more bad weather forecasted and Prince Rupert is about 160 nautical miles away so we’ll drop anchor somewhere along the way. So Paul, Dave and Ozzie pore over the charts and Paul programs in some remote anchorages so we can duck out of the storm. Paul and I were laughing at Dave today. When we started the trip Dave told us he only navigates from the paper charts, but Paul, Ozzie and I noticed today that Dave was relying more often than not on the Garmin GPS Plotter because that baby will “walk” you safely to your destination and it’s easy to use. Grumpy ol’ Dave became a modern man today!! Interesting straits and narrows along the route today. We turned northwest from one narrows into another and saw our first boat today — a Canadian Coast Guard cutter in a heavy fog though they might board us ... but not to be and we continued unimpeded with a passing wave of the hand. We make 74.4 nautical miles and “crawl” between some small islands into Kutze Inlet to drop anchor for the night. Great setting sunlight on snow-capped peaks surrounding the inlet and surrounding islands are great windbreak so we’ll sleep well after I cook dinner. Black Beans with olives and chicken over rice and we set out a crab pot and caught some crabs which we steamed for appetizers. Great evening. February 25: We left Khutze Inlet before sunrise and headed for Prince Rupert, but made only 90 nautical miles today which left us about 20 miles short of Prince Rupert, so we dropped anchor in Kelp Passage Cove where we were protected against the winds, and we had great views of the surrounding snow-capped coastal mountains. I remembered that Dave said earlier, “The winter Pacific will make a believer out of you,” and more fully understood what he meant. I’ve been on several summer trips with Paul in his smaller cabin cruiser and the waters were serene, almost glassy, and until you experience the winter you cannot appreciate the true power of nature along the Pacific Northwest. The winds and tides powered by the Pacific Ocean, and enhanced by the coastal mountains are absolutely indifferent as to whom may be swallowed and lost forever, so our survival instinct was alert ... just like Vietnam in many ways, but good companions and my son made this more memorable. Quick and brief interludes of sunlight peeked out from clouds and mist throughout the day as we motored along the straits and narrows. Cloud filtered sunlight created unique lighting on the snow-covered and glaciated mountains to be seen no more as mountain disappeared under the moving clouds, and I reminded myself that we could easily be lured asleep by the beauty and serenity only to be awakened by another winter storm and I believe this conflicting message led to the excitement and anticipation I felt every moment we were at sea. I’m going to miss this when I get home. February 26: Left Kelp Passage Cove and motored to Prince Rupert for several hours for provisions and telephone calls home. Left Prince Rupert and motored about another 50 miles until we reached Dundas Island which sets in the middle of Dixon Entrance. Dixon Entrance is about 80 miles of exposed Pacific Ocean water and is considered by many to be potentially the roughest body of water along the Pacific Northwest during the winter months, so we weren’t taking any chances. Dundas Island is also only a few nautical miles south of the Canadian and United States/Alaskan border so we were heartened at our progress. We made it to Brundage Inlet on Dundes Island just before sunset and were forced to navigate some very hazardous and shallow water at low-tide. Paul’s beginning to get the feel for this ship and I appreciate Dave’s mentoring skills. He is a real sailor and decent man. Ozzie is smart and hard-working. We had a great crew, as each and every day reflected. As we dropped anchor, a thin layer of ice formed in the inlet. Hope all is OK tomorrow. Temperature has really been dropping the past few days. It’s about 18 degrees tonight, and water temperature has dropped to 39.4 F. Beautiful and remote inlet of water, and well-protected. February 27: Up before dawn and rowed the dinghy to shore to explore the island's shoreline. Some snow last night and only very thin layer of ice on water so no problem. Learned that ice formed in inlet near fresh water stream which reduced the salinity. Lifted anchor at 6:30 a.m. and we were off to Ketchikan, Alaska. Paul did another great job steering Gallant Girl out of the inlet into the open waters of Dixon Entrance ... Dixon Entrance was very calm with only occasional 20 mph wind gusts, but no real threat and we entered U.S. waters without incident. We entered Revillagigedo Channel after we cleared Dixon Entrance and Duke and Annette Islands provided us with another sanctuary from the Pacific Ocean and, of course, when we entered Revillagigedo Channel we were greeted by those reliable and playful sentinels, the porpoises. After Revillagigedo Channel we entered the Tongass Narrows and our day’s destination, Ketchikan. We tied up at the marina and the snow was beginning to fall. Temperature dropped to maybe 12 degrees F. It is getting cold, but glad for calm seas today. Walked around Ketchikan since we arrived early (only motored 57.6 nautical miles) and had some time to explore. Big town for Alaska, about 8,000 residents and big summer tourist population. I was tired of cooking so treated everyone to dinner in town. February 28: Topped off fuel tanks in Ketchikan. It was so cold ropes were frozen stiff and had to be pounded and kicked to work loose from cleats. Maybe 9 or 10 degrees F, but weather was otherwise great. Water calm. Our destination was somewhere south of Petersburg because we knew Petersburg was too far to reach in one day, so Paul calculated some anchorages along the way. We made 68.8 knots because we were motoring against the tide most of the day. We only averaged 7.8 knots, and our top speed was 9.7, so it was a slow day, but weather held, so no complaints except it was COLD!! About 8-9 F degrees all day long. I’ve been bone cold for over a week, but thank goodness the boat has great heaters. Very reliable diesel heaters. I’m only sleeping in a 32-degree sleeping bag on my bunk and it’s comfortable, so the heaters are working well. Water temperature about 38 degrees. We are “surrounded” by cold. We made it to Kindergarden Bay on Etolin Island, and dropped anchor. Beautiful place with frozen waterfall that must be beautiful in the summer. Big dinner and calm waters for good sleep. March 1: Up early and raised anchor on the double. I fixed breakfast as we motored from Kindergarden Bay into the Stikine Strait heading for Petersburg. Little did we know that we would have our first real treacherous weather surprise of the trip in only a matter of hours ... At about 10 a.m., we left Stikine Strait and entered Sumner Strait just south of Wrangell Narrows near Petersburg. On the GPS plotter and charts, Sumner Strait was not as large as some of the bodies of water we had experienced along the trip, but Paul warned us that this was a body of water that held many surprises. The Stikine River flows from the high Canadian coastal mountains and glaciers along the Alaskan and Canadian border. When the winter winds are funneled down the Stikine River toward Sumner Strait they intensify to speeds exceeding 50 mph or greater. Well, today was something else ... I cleaned up the galley after breakfast and went behind the pilothouse to duck the wind and 7- or 8-degree cold to smoke a cigar ... within a matter of minutes Gallant Girl was rolling and bucking some very intense waves, and the waves were pounding her starboard side and bow. It was so intense and sudden I grabbed ahold of a cleat and held on to avoid being thrown overboard. Paul rushed to the rear of the pilothouse to check on me and opened the door and helped me inside. At this moment, we were slammed by a rogue wave which knocked our front mast boom loose from its seat. The boom began to swing violently into the mast cables and threatened to bring the mast down if we didn’t get it secure, pronto. Dave took the helm and quartered us into the wind and waves to reduce the rolling motion as Paul, Ozzie and I crawled outside to grab the boom and secure it. If the masts were knocked loose it was quite possible the mast would fall and sink the ship. I held the boom in place with all my weight and strength while Paul and Ozzie secured it. It took about 5-8 minutes. While we were straining to secure the boom, the temperature was so cold that when the waves would break over the bow they would instantly freeze and become ice spray whick pelted us as we worked to secure the boom. The deck and sides of the boat were ice-covered, but we secured the boom and crawled (or slipped) back into the warm pilothouse. We had been too busy surviving to be worried, and once inside the pilothouse we “high-fived” our survival and success. Dave’s outstanding boat-handling skills once again saved the day, and he quartered the boat to first face the winds, and then to turn with the wind at our stern to help propel us along and out of harm’s way. We entered Wrangell Narrows at about noon and proceeded in this relatively calm environment until we reached the Petersburg marina as heavy snow was falling and heavy winds were blowing from the coastal mountains. By 10 p.m. as I write this journal, we are under at least 2 feet of snow. We went out and walked in the storm and had dinner in town. March 2: Woke up to about 3 and 1/2 feet of snow on the deck. Spent the morning shoveling and cooking for the crew, and later walked the town ... Took comfort that Paul’s boat is very seaworthy and ready to motor anywhere now. Completely refitted and withstood some rough waters, unlike what she’ll face in the summer months. March 3: Dave flew back to Seattle fro Petersburg airport which has daily jet service. Ozzie will stick around a few days to see if we can motor to Kake soon, but weather looks bad for another week. I asked the Harbormaster today what he thought about leaving Petersburg and entering Fredrick Sound. He said, “Go, if you want the ride of your life,” so I guess we may be stuck here for a while. Another foot of snow and more shoveling. March 4: Ozzie flew back to Seattle and Paul flew for 2-3 weeks to Juneau on some unfinished business, after I assured him I could take care of his ship while he was away. He gave me a long list of “do’s and don’t’s” and I listened closely because he is the captain and the owner. March 5: I’m the only one left aboard. Plenty of time to do my assigned chores and get hopping on finishing the antique woodwork in the pilothouse to surprise Paul upon his return in several weeks and, of course, shovel snow on the deck each and every day. Engine room was a steady 41 degrees F, but the boat was warm and comfortable. March 6 - 20: Met many fishermen at the marina. They were beginning to get their boats ready for the spring halibut and salmon season, so learned a lot of info about the area’s waters. Had a lot of people approach Gallant Girl and ask to come aboard. She’s unique and a real specimen. Made me appreciate how much hard work Paul put into her refitting, and I’m very proud to have shared these moments with my son. March 21: Paul’s back from Juneau and we plan to leave the next day since winds are forecasted to not exceed 35 knots. We now know that Gallant Girl can handle some serious weather so we’re ready to proceed tomorrow. Paul is stunned at the staining and varnish in the pilothouse. March 22: Before dawn, Paul and I leave Petersburg and head into Fredrick Sound to motor around Kupreanof Island for the native village, Kake about 70 nautical miles away. We arrive Kake mid-afternoon and secure Gallant Girl to the marina near one of the boats featured on the Discovery Channel’s “World’s Deadliest Catch.” Paul brought Gallant Girl into the harbor smoothly and without incident. He’s a quick learner and I trust his caution and instincts, not unlike when he took me on some of our other Alaskan ice and mountain adventures but that’s another story. Summary: I suggested that Paul await the calm waters of late-spring but he did not heed my request and forged ahead. I guess one could argue that any sensible person would wait until spring to make this journey, but Paul’s “sense of sensibility” is sometimes only related to technical adaptations to survive any given death-defying adventure, and this journey was no different to him than some of his mountain-climbing adventures on rock and ice. And so we made it, and now Gallant Girl will only face the calm waters of the summer season. In retrospect, the dangers we faced were probably far less than we sensed at the time. Gallant Girl is a very seaworthy vessel, and I recall Dave, Ozzie and Paul reassuring me, “She can handle a lot more than we can handle, so don’t worry because she’ll get us there.” Paul's website is www.gallantadventuresalaska.com .