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SOUND BOUND ©2003 Jeff Lindeman July 19 thru 27, 2003 Vessel: Juanderer - 26ft Ciera 2651 Express Cruiser Captain: Jeff Lindeman First Mate: Steve Noe June 13th 2003 Pre-Voyage - Sound Bound READ ABOUT THE 2003 VOYAGE HERE! Desolation Sound - it rolls off the tongue all dark and sticky. The name implies a place of... well, a place of desolation. Remote. Inaccessable. George Vancouver was obviously NOT a happy fellow when he named this area. But with his failing health and his hopes of finding the Northwest Passage dashed at every inlet, the Captain's outlook was understandably bleak. From Discovery Bay around Point Defiance to Cape Disappointment through Deception Pass and into Desolation Sound - George was Definitely Depressed. I think it's safe to say that George was not responsible for naming "The Sunshine Coast." Whada'ya think? As Dour a Dude as Capt. Vancouver was, still in 1794 he completed one of the greatest surveying ventures in history - his last stop was a bay near the southern tip of Baranof Island (Alaskan panhandle), which he named Port Conclusion. After the long voyage home he finally dropped anchor in the Thames in October of 1795. With his health in decline, he retired to the town of Petersham, on the outskirts of London, and assisted by his brother John, spent the next three years preparing his journal for publication. On May 12, 1798, at the not so tender age of 40, Captain George Vancouver died and was buried in the churchyard of St. Peter's church in Petersham, England. 40 years of age! I'm 48, and will be 49 on the day that my trusty (and maybe a little crusty, I haven't really looked) first mate and I begin our latest Seadog Journey. And I find it unfathomable that this man, in the eighteenth century, went so far and saw so much in so little time. From his journey with Cook to the Antarctic and the South Seas, to making his own mark surveying this beautiful corner of North America, George flat-out did a lot in 40 short years. Pre-Voyage - Historical Perspective Some may say, as they have of Captain Cook, that he was an exploiter; a demon preying on the undiscovered lands and cultures of the world. May be. However, when someone gives me the "colonial oppression" rap, I always like to point out that these were different times. Brutal times. They can't be measured against the socio-economic yardstick of today. Hell, it was considered an act of mutiny in the British Royal Navy for a common sailor to perform his own "subversive navigational calculations" - forbidden to all but the highest ranking officers - and punishable by hanging. Hanging! Now. No trial. Nothing. Captain's Orders. (see chapter two of the New York Times bestseller, Longitude, by Dava Sobel). So somehow the historical perspective of a plump American, guzzling a can of Coke in one hand and fumbling for the keys to his Lexus in the other doesn't carry a lot of weight. But that's just me. So OK, let's just say it's a given that by our modern standards of exceptable social, diplomatic and political behavior, Captains Cook and Vancover were both assholes. Still, there is no denying their bravery, skill and relentless pursuit of a goal. If you're a modern mariner of any kind, the realities of Vancouver's voyage are enough to scare the livin' bejesus out of you. First, you are thousands of miles from civilization; completely cut off from ANY form of assistance; and interacting with strange and sometimes hostile peoples. All things impossible for 21st century man to truly cognize, let alone have any form of empathy for. However the things that are really frightening to think about are the navigational aspects of the exploration. Simply imagine this one little detail: unknown waters with NO CHARTS. Pardon, but the mere thought of it makes my sphincter muscle tighten and my asshole pucker faster than a reefer-induced, Gene Kruppa drum solo! The old saw that "there are 253 San Juan and Canadian Gulf islands... and 784 at low tide" has an extra-special meaning here! As a good example, take your boat and go into Chuckanut Bay (just south of Bellingham) between Chuckanut Rock and the Island at high tide. It's at least 500 yards wide. No problem, until you snag the ridge that extends from the rock, two feet below the surface, two-thirds of the way across the gap. At low tide the ridge is plainly visible, as are the fresh chunks taken out by those fearless explorers (read brainless dolts) that still cruise without charts. Pre-Voyage - Personal Perspective I guess where I'm going with all the above is here: right now I have a six-inch stack of charts spread out over the floor of my studio; next to that is a stack of cruise manuals giving cautions about approaches and uncharted hazards; and on another computer, the highly detailed electronic charts that I plan the routes with and eventually upload to my GPS unit. It's a connect-the-dots kind of operation. Check the paper charts, look for cautions, locate the waypoints on the computer and connect the dots with the mouse. Shuffle, shuffle, click, click. We take it all for granted. Modern Adventuring. Plenty of room for bravado but with a nice big safety net. So we'll be off on another great adventure on July 19th. Boldly going where a number of people have gone before. But it will be beautiful. And it will be a modern kind of Bold. Charts. GPS. Good food. No ship's biscuit and salt beef for us (it's said that Cap't Van actually liked ship's biscuit and salt horse... er beef). Vancouver and Cook would probably fall asleep on this one; but it'll be plenty of adventure for two flabby, middle-aged American boys with Cokes (and Rum - there IS something to be said for tradition) in one hand and the keys to their Audi (Skip) and Volvo (Gill) in the other. It's "unknown" waters to us and that's all that really counts. Pre-Voyage - Juanderer Lastly, a quick note on our beloved vessel, Juanderer. I threw about $1700 at her this spring for maintenance and upkeep. The usual BOAT (Bring On Another Thousand) stuff. Tune and fresh oil. Pulled the outdrive and replaced malfunctioning rams for tilting the drive and new u-joint/bearings/seal and fresh lube of course. Also a new alternator (auto version $110, marine version $185). And a few little things like replacing a corroded in-line fuse for the trim-tabs, and a bad oil-pressure sending unit. Many thanks to Gill for his continued support of the ol' girl - a day spent washing and waxing and a completely unexpected gift of $300 to help with the above upkeep - what a guy! Don't expect to get out of the fuel bill though you bum! *hehheh* Cheers, Jeff 
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