WE'VE MOVED!!!!

***WE'VE MOVED***

You may have noticed our blog has not been updated in a while. We have now secured our own domain and will be updating the latest stories from TEAM SEA WEASEL

Please follow the link:

http://www.seaweasel.ca

Never Mess with a WEASEL

Let's just say you never f*#$ with a WEASEL. Team Ed escalated a well intentioned war of words to a full blown Prank War. After taping up the WEASEL and posting ads in local papers making disparaging remarks we made our move. Wednesday night at 10pm we cast off from Heather Civic Marina and penetrated the tight security at Burrard Civic Marina.

It took us a little time to find ED and when we did we found ED locked up tight. Luckily we quickly located the keys and let's just say the rest was history...

Dear Penthouse...It All Started When On My Sailboat...

It's Business Time.

Dear Pent House,

It was May Long Weekend and I was on my sailboat with three girls... That's where the story starts and pretty much stops too. Cheryl, Belinda, Clare and Kingsley all loaded onto the WEASEL for a long weekend getaway. We headed out late Friday after work and made our way to Bowen; our usual Howe Sound jumping off point.

There was a strong westerly when we motored late out of the "Creek" that died off at the point as we entered into Howe Sound. So after a nice beat out of the bay we were reduced to motoring to our destination. As usual we rounded the point just as the 10pm ferry was starting to head out. We were buffeted by the current but negotiated our way into our usual slip at the USCM.

We had no sooner tied up in the deepening darkness when a Mayday call came in.

"Mayday, Mayday, Mayday, Vancouver Coast Guard calling all vessels in the vicinity of Horse Shoe bay to respond".

There was a call that two people we're in the water off the north point of the bay and in distress. My heart sunk. The WEASEL's engine was still warm; but I knew we we're 30-40 minutes away from Horseshoe Bay and ours was not the vessel to be rendering assistance. The ferry and the water taxi came on the air that they we're in route.

Over the next 30 minutes we listened to the drama unfold. It was not until later that we found out that a diver had died and the person with him was trying to get himself and his deceased friend back to shore. It was eerie hearing this over the radio on the boat.

The body of a diver being recovered at Lions Bay Marina.

SEA WEASEL at her second home.

The next morning we had breakfast at the "Snug" as usual and loaded up on groceries at the General Store. We were off and running, literally, for Gambier. We tried out the new chute for the first time and noticed quite a difference. The boat took off and ran down wind to the end of Bowen. The wind got flukey at the NE point and after a quick motor we were beating our way over to Port Graves. The weather was overcast but at least dry.

We found the anchourage at Port Graves exposed to a Southerly inflow wind and with a surprising number of boats in it. We had no trouble finding a anchourage behind HMCS Annapolis. We set our hook and set about "relaxing" i.e.: rowing the dog to shore and setting a crab pot.

Port Graves with the long weekend traffic.

Rowing the "Little Man" ashore in our crappy dinghy.

I finally found a place in Port Graves where I can catch crabs.

Later in the afternoon the sun made an appearance and we ferried ourselves ashore in our totally inadequate dinghy. After numerous trips, some near sinkings, and many a wet foot and bum we opted to hike around a bit. We stripped off our foulies and life jackets and hid them in the woods and set out. We followed some ATV tracks around the south end of the bay through the beautiful RVYC grounds and Camp Atterban making our way up to a little clearing near a cliff with a fire pit and chainsaw carved furniture surrounding it. This was as far as we got and turned around to return to the boat.

Getting back followed the same painful process as before with many a near disaster. We sat down and started eating dinner when we had unexpected guests Adam and Lana. They had their boat AUDACIOUS anchoured across the bay. They clambered aboard for a snack and a drink before heading out.

The next morning we hauled up our anchour and set out for Plumper Cove. The weather had deteriorated and it was wet, cold and miserable. Enroute I got the brainwave to head over to Gibson's Marina instead. They unbelievably had space and we made our way there.

Clare holding a freezing little man on the way to Gibsons.


Spinlock lifejackets give you "crotch strap line".

Gibson's Marina is a favourite spot and we were happy to get into a place where we could plug in our shorepower and get the heater going. When we made it in we got settled in and headed off to Grandma's Pub for a hot greasy lunch. After we settled into drinks and poker. Then things got crazy.

The dance party begins.

Belinda's poker face.

Cheryl loses again.

Kingsley, a little surly after some beer.

Finally plyed with liquor, things get hot.

Gibsons at sunset.

Monday morning we had a leisurely morning and left the dock around noon. The wind was blowing in hard from the Southeast -of course. We set out close hauled and began putting tacks in towards Vancouver. We came in far to the south near Spanish Banks and tacked up the south coast of the Bay. The sun was shining and the seas flat. It was the perfect return to Vancouver. Off the Maritime Musuem I reluctantly put on the engine and motored for home.

TCYC Sailpast Race 2010

It was sail past and SEA WEASEL was out in all her finery for Tiddly Cove's sail past and race. As usual it was Cheryl my mother and sister in law obstensively for "Mother's Day" we headed out for a "Mother's Day Sail".

The Usual or Unusual Crew:

Poutty-Pants Cheryl.

Jo Skipper (I am not kidding - it was her name).


Tyler and Lizzard.

The sail past took it's usual relaxed pass and was followed up by the short race from "Tiddly Cove" to a southerly Freighter and then the QC Buoy. We had a good start and relaxed gybe to a freighter that was to the South. I misjudged the current and leeway and we wound up having to put in a tack at the last minute which saw us loose a position. In the end the end we ran across the line under spinnaker and came in 3rd out of 5.

The sail past in all it's disorganized glory

Heading south I prepare the kite.

QC Buoy Takes a Hit

Ouch!

The QC Buoy appears to have taken a hit some weeks ago. I am not sure who/what hit it but my guess is SARANDIS with his new fandangled ram.

ED Strikes the First Blow and Awakens a Giant!

The arrogance of team ED will surely be their downfall.

We came to the boat two weeks ago ready to race only to find someone had beat us there. At first I thought it must have been Mike trying to start off a war. Soon it became apparent more was at work. The desperate amateurish style of the attack soon gave away the true source ED. We later found out that Ty, fueled by alcohol raided our marina and vandalized the WEASEL.

ED was here.


Someone cracked the code on the lock.

It was sad to see the name of our unholy adversary staining the pure WEASEL.

By the next week we found the vicious slanderous attacks were now moving into the media. The Georgia Straight's "I Saw You..." column featured this:

When: May 20, 2010

Where: In my wake

"Poor little Sea Weasel was left in Mr. Ed's wake last night... we even let you get close to us for a while... but last place was where you ended up the night. We are looking forward to leaving you in our wake again next week."

However credit is due. He did strike the first blow; but has awoken a Giant!

The giant has been awoken!

SEA WEASEL's Arch-Nemesis ED

The Axis of ED!

In life it is important to figure out who your friends are and who your enemies are. It has become apparent that there is one boat and crew that is in every way diametrically opposed to us (Team SEA WEASEL). It will be our avowed goal to attempt to crush them at every turn. The boat in question is of course ED and their crew of Tom Selleck wanabees sporting Hawaiian shirts at every race.

"Why does this animosity exist?"

Well I could point to the obvious conflicts as old as the ages:

-Good (S.W.) vs Evil (ED)
-Beauty (S.W.) vs Uglieness (ED)
-Culture (S.W.) vs Barbarity (ED)
-Skill (S.W.) vs Random Luck (ED)
-Quiet Courage (S.W.) vs Panic (ED)

However there is more to this complex relationship than these epic themes. I believe it is the underhanded way in which Ty and Schmidty approach sailing that has lead to this conflict. I have it on good authority that every race starts with the sacrifice of goat right on the dock to curry favour with the dark lord. I also am pretty sure that on more than one occasion Ty has used his charming ways and low cut jeans to curry favour with the Race Committees.

Despite these under handed ways we will not stoop to their level, no, we like the noble Weasel, our name sake we will go forward to victory and if we do not win every time we can rest assured we have won a moral victory.


I agree with the "truthers" there was a conspiracy...

ED enjoying one of their favourite passtimes...HUNTING DOLPHINS!

Time for Thursday Night Racing!

Time to put our war face on.

One of my favourite things about the summer is Thursday night racing. It is the perfect end of the day; after work hopping on the boat and kicking around the cans and after settling down with a beer and reliving the highlights (or low lights as the case maybe). This was the first week of Thursday night sailing and for once I was the one running late. Cheryl and I jumped in the car and were racing down the boat. I am not proud to admit but as we raced down in our car I was having a mini panic attack. Of course we couldn’t find parking close to the marina so I dumped the car in the commercial loading zone and ran to the gate where I realized that my gate key was missing. We followed a guy in but he only went through the first gate. I yelled at the guys to let me in, but I saw someone coming who we could follow in so I shrieked no. As I ran down the dock I was screaming “start the engine! Cast of the boat! Go Go Go!”
We’ll better late than never. We got out to the finish line and started a full five minutes late crossing the line with division 3. The race followed its natural course but the damage was done. Over beers at the club we consoled ourselves with the fact that we ran a pretty tight race with no screw ups except getting there on time. Next Thursday we will be out there and on time!

FCYC Spring Series Results

A Whale of a Tale

A 39' Grey Whale visited False Creek and the WEASEL this week.

I got a text message from my wife saying: “There’s a whale in False Creek!” I checked the web and sure enough a 39’ Grey Whale was motoring around in False Creek. I was excited and planned on heading straight down to the boat to check it out but I got stuck at work late. Oh well I probably would not have seen anything anyway, boy was I wrong! In the end the Whale saw all it wanted to see in False Creek and headed back on its merry way.



The Whale entering False Creek



Truckin along between Burrard and Granville Street Bridges

Swimming between Ganville & Cambie Street Bridges.

The Whale off of Spruce Harbour Marina being followed by the CCG and Conservation.

The Whale passing a anchoured sailboat.

The Whale checking out Yaletown.

There she blows!

Two days later David and Mike were in the marina getting the boat ready for Thursday night racing when our boat neighbour, Rick Fowler (owner of “J”), popped by to tell the boys that he had been at the marina when the Whale was in the creek and that it had come into the marina. Not only had it swam around in the marina bumping into a dock finger, breaking it, it hit a boat lifting it up out of the water a bit. Sure enough it was the WEASEL.

Far from being annoyed or concerned that a whale had hit our boat I thought it was one of the coolest things I heard. It is rare enough to see a whale in False Creek but to have it hit your boat is something else. I can only assume that it saw its lovely lines and finely proportioned hull and mistook it for a sleek female whale and tried to mate with it. Truly bizarre!

The damaged finger was removed and the slips are now empty.

2010 Halibut Bank: And Then We Broke Mike

Flying the Battle Flag.


Division 7 Pride; man I look like a sheep rapist in this photo.

The conditions were perfect; drizzly overcast conditions in the morning becoming warm and sunny in the afternoon and 20 knots of wind. We motored out ready to do battle with a large fleet of division 7 boats. As we got closer we decided to go with our big genoa and lash the 110 to the deck incase we wanted to switch. As we motored closer to Passage Island we saw that the wind was building as predicted and we took off the #1 and put on the 110% #2. We considered reefing the main but all was well with it up and the helm was still fairly light and responsive.


Motoring out to the start.


A pretty grey day to start.


Time for a quick sail change before things got started.


Forming up off of Passage Island.


Boats head off to Halibut Bank.

The warning horn blew and we began our start running up and down the line on the north end. We ran into some heavy traffic closing with CRYSTAL DOLPHIN near the line. In the last few seconds we began to harden up and crossed over right on time in close formation with the rest of the fleet.
It was here that tactics started to come in. We were getting a lot of dirty wind off of the boats in front of us so after a short run in close with them we tacked over towards Bowen Island. This turned out to be the right move and we gained perceptively compared with the majority of the fleet that did not come over. We ran right into shore before putting a tack in to round the point of Bowen.
In the past I would always hesitate on putting in new tacks and usually try and put the fewest number of tacks in preferring to follow a simpler course. This race we beat into the waves tacking every half mile trying to stick close to the south end of Bowen for tide relief. We also did not settle on our sail trim and each tack were adjusting the jib car position to get the most out of our sails. The boat handled beautifully loving the stiff breeze. Our crew was rusty and on two occasions we had to put tacks in early when a loaded sheet was released prematurely (good one Dave and Mike). Cheryl’s new role as foredeck girl went well despite being soaked head to foot with spray and falling every three seconds. Despite our “keystone” cops routine we hadn’t made any serious errors.


CRYSTAL DOLPHIN taking off.


Boats beating off the Southeast coast of Bowen Island.


SALUS to leeward of us heading out.


VOLARE crossing ahead of us after a big gain on their part.


Healing over as we beat windward with all the crew hiking out.


Closing in on the mark off of Popham Island.

As we approached the windward mark we found ourselves in a comfortable fifth place behind Marbella which water lined the whole division, Dusty Mauch, Crystal Dolphin, and Surveryor. As the lead boats passed us with whites alone we opted to round and see what it was like before putting up the chute. The rounding went off without a hitch but ED had snuck up on us and was closer than I would have liked. We headed on broad reach at a fast pace under white sails. I thought that this was good enough and judged we we’re probably doing hull speed or better. Despite the boats pace we were not gaining on any of the boats ahead of us nor were we getting ahead of ED.


After rounding the mark ED was on our stern and we could not shake them.


Still we could not get ahead it was time for a change.


A view from ED as we prepared to make our change.


The hoist.




Grinding the kite up took some doing.





Time for the kite. I wasn’t too sure about putting the kite up in 20 knots going down wind in choppy 3’ seas. We slowly prepared everything with me doing foredeck and Cheryl on the helm. David was in the pit and Mike was going to help haul up the sail; it was go time. The kite shot up and filled immediately. It was about 9’ from the masthead. Dave and Mike set about grinding it up the rest of the way. With the jib still flying I flew the kite from the cockpit. With the kite almost at the top of the mast and me ready to hand off the sheet to Mike so I could steer Cheryl lost control.
The boat slid down the wave and broached. In rapid succession we were all knocked down with the boat and then the stern kicked through the wind and we accidentally gybed. All of the sudden we were on our other side. As the boom flew over the mainsheet grabbed Mike and threw him up against the bulkhead but his jacket caught on the cleat above by one of the halyard winches and his arm was being nearly ripped off. With the boat in chaos and the boom flying around Dave jumped down the companionway and hid below decks likely cowering beneath something. I stood there yelling at Mike to let go as he screamed in agony and Cheryl tried to manage the boat which was now racing towards the rocks. After untangling Mike we proceeded to dump the spinnaker into the ocean creating a giant sea anchour. The boat was now dragging the kite in the ocean and the only way we could recover the sail by sailing over towards the sail and pulling it in while the it was not under pressure.With the sail recovered we bore away safely in almost last place. We got the boat squared away and started back on course. Our attention then shifted to Mike who was out of commission laying in agony in the cockpit. When he was sorted out we started trying to race the boat again. Heading down wing on wing we picked up speed. While the rest of the fleet was reaching and gybing we pointes straight at the finish line and ate up the miles. Soon we we’re picking places. As we moved into the final stretch it was clear we were back to fifth. It was amazing that as we crossed the line how close the rest of the fleet was.


The view from SALUS as we are about to go over and broach.


The view from ED as we sail back towards the mark trying to recover our spinnaker from the ocean.

With the final horn we bore away and reached over to Bowen Island. We made our way to the Union Steamship Company Marina; Mike and Cheryl made their way to the First Aid Station. The ambulance attendants recommended he get it checked out so they carted him down to the Water Taxi to take him to Lion’s Gate Hospital via a waiting ambulance at Horseshoe Bay. Being good friends we headed to the bar and left Mike to it. After being assessed he made his way back to Bowen after hitching a ride on a random power boat. From there the night followed it’s natural course.


Mike's war wound.

Cheryl's bruised, um...pride.

Bottoms up at the Pub on Bowen

Official Results:
-2010 Halibt Bank Results