Today we say goodbye (finally) to Blakely Island as we await the arrival of our towboat to take us to Roche Harbor, where Bill will remove our detonated muffler and re-glass the 12” top back onto the main muffler piece.
When our tow arrived, it was a simple matter of tying their short harness line to our bow for the short ride out into the bay, where the line will be lengthened for the rest of the 2-3 hour ride to Roche Harbor.
The towboat skipper was having a bit of a problem keeping his engine running and upon restarting for the third time, poked his head out of the helm to inform us that he just switched fuel tanks and there shouldn’t be any further problems…yeah, right.
I was sitting at the helm of the Reaper (just in case) when I noticed a couple standing next to their sailboat watching us being towed. So, I took the opportunity to yell out “We really save on gas this way!” and actually got a grin from them as we drifted on by. The Grin Reaper strikes again!
Heading towards the sharp left turn leading out of the marina, the towboat slowed for the maneuver and just as he made the turn, his engine once again died. As he fired up the engine and put it in forward gear, it died again, and again, and again. By now we were drifting towards the rock wall that lined the side of the marina entrance/exit. Each time he got the engine going, it died as soon as he put in gear to move. With only a foot or two to spare before we drifted into rocks, thus adding one more thing to “write home about”, Lysa yells for me to start our good engine and get us the hell away from the wall. With that, I fired up the port engine and threw it into reverse, just narrowly avoiding the loud “crunching” sound of braking fiberglass as we banged up against the rocks.
Oh yeah, by using our engine to keep us off the rocks, we also kept the towboat from suffering the same fate. You know things aren’t going well when the tow-ee becomes the tow-er. Once clear of the rocks, the towboat skipper (not me) got his engine going enough to get us moving and out of the marina. We headed out into the bay, where we slowed while they let out some line for the rest of the cruise.
Lysa and I settled back for the long, slow trip to Roche Harbor, during which, I had the rare opportunity to kick back like a real passenger on my own boat. While Lysa read, I made a sandwich and took bodacious amounts of pictures, including the ever-obligatory “Ferry” shot. Or in this case, shots.
The conditions could not have been better for being towed, with virtually no wind and a glass-like water surface. All of which helped tremendously in facilitating our arrival to Roche Harbor just under the 3-hour ($500) towing time limit for which we’re covered under our insurance policy.
When our tow arrived, it was a simple matter of tying their short harness line to our bow for the short ride out into the bay, where the line will be lengthened for the rest of the 2-3 hour ride to Roche Harbor.
The towboat skipper was having a bit of a problem keeping his engine running and upon restarting for the third time, poked his head out of the helm to inform us that he just switched fuel tanks and there shouldn’t be any further problems…yeah, right.
I was sitting at the helm of the Reaper (just in case) when I noticed a couple standing next to their sailboat watching us being towed. So, I took the opportunity to yell out “We really save on gas this way!” and actually got a grin from them as we drifted on by. The Grin Reaper strikes again!
Heading towards the sharp left turn leading out of the marina, the towboat slowed for the maneuver and just as he made the turn, his engine once again died. As he fired up the engine and put it in forward gear, it died again, and again, and again. By now we were drifting towards the rock wall that lined the side of the marina entrance/exit. Each time he got the engine going, it died as soon as he put in gear to move. With only a foot or two to spare before we drifted into rocks, thus adding one more thing to “write home about”, Lysa yells for me to start our good engine and get us the hell away from the wall. With that, I fired up the port engine and threw it into reverse, just narrowly avoiding the loud “crunching” sound of braking fiberglass as we banged up against the rocks.
Oh yeah, by using our engine to keep us off the rocks, we also kept the towboat from suffering the same fate. You know things aren’t going well when the tow-ee becomes the tow-er. Once clear of the rocks, the towboat skipper (not me) got his engine going enough to get us moving and out of the marina. We headed out into the bay, where we slowed while they let out some line for the rest of the cruise.
Lysa and I settled back for the long, slow trip to Roche Harbor, during which, I had the rare opportunity to kick back like a real passenger on my own boat. While Lysa read, I made a sandwich and took bodacious amounts of pictures, including the ever-obligatory “Ferry” shot. Or in this case, shots.
The conditions could not have been better for being towed, with virtually no wind and a glass-like water surface. All of which helped tremendously in facilitating our arrival to Roche Harbor just under the 3-hour ($500) towing time limit for which we’re covered under our insurance policy.
As we pulled into to the Roche Harbor Marina, we called in and were given our slip assignment. Stopping just short of the marina entrance, the towboat skipper untied the bowline and moved around to our starboard side (that’s still right-side as you’re facing the front of the boat) to tie up for maneuvering us into our side-tie moorage slip. With no further engine problems, the towboat captain skillfully moved us to our “home” for the next few days and with some help from a couple of marina dock-hands, we were tied up and secured in no time.
Still a bit shaken from our close call at the Blakely Island Marina, we headed up to the local watering hole for a cocktail and appetizer. From our window table inside The Madrona, we watched as the daily ritual known as “the colors” was being played out. This sunset ceremony basically brings all marina activity to a halt as the Canadian and American national anthems are played while each nation’s flags are lowered and then folded to some snappy little tune that sounded a lot like the theme music from The Bridge Over the River Kwai.
Once the cannon is fired (man, it’s fun to watch folks dive for cover when that thing goes off), everything goes back into full swing as if this were some sort of “Stepford” marina that has all staff and guests programmed to stop in their tracks while the “colors” ceremony begins to play out, then it’s right back to the hustle and bustle of a very large and busy marina operations once the cannon is fired. It’s a pretty cool thing, but also a bit unsettling at the same time.
Making it back to the Reaper around 9:30, we set-up the DVD player and our 20” monitor to watch one of our favorite boating movies, “Sahara”. Just as the opening titles were rolling, our mechanic, Bill, appeared on the dock next to our boat with his son of about 12. He stopped by to see how we were doing and was extremely upset about the “incident” at the Blakely Marina. He also wanted to let us know that he would be by around 9am the following morning to remove our muffler to take back to his shop for the necessary repair work. We chatted briefly, then said our goodbyes and took Sahara off pause to enjoy our movie under the star filled sky.
At this point, we’re playing it by ear until we know how soon the repair will take and how much we’re looking at for the cost. At that point, we’ll decide whether to continue our trip to Canada as planned or make some modifications to those destinations.
But for now, we’re enjoying the complete 180-degree difference between the quiet little Blakely Island Marina and the large bustling Roche Harbor Marina. It’s all good just the same.
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