100 Bottles of Beer on the Wall and Other Songs of the Sea

Article By Bernard Boulanger

The first thing any sea yarn worth it's salt needs, is a fine ship..or boat, I've yet to figure out the difference. Regardless a fine ship/boat/vessel is needed, preferably one with a history of sorts and Pilgrim's Wake certainly fit the bill. Pilgrim's Wake was my friend Martin's boat that he built and partially designed himself. Starting in Ontario many years ago and eventually progressing to a friend's backyard here in North Vancouver where he completed her amidst the berry bushes, vegetable beds, fish ponds and garage sale finds.

Inspired by an 1890s design, (George Holmes' famous Eel) she was a 20' shoal draft centerboarder Canoe Yawl(say that 3 times fast!). About 3000lbs displacement, 7 ft beam and a 2 foot draft with the board up, 5' with it down. She had a 16ft iron shoe along her keel so she could be beached. Unlike Holmes's Eel she was built of red cedar using the modern method of strip planking over laminated oak ribs and the whole boat (except for some brightwork) was glassed and epoxied for extra strength. She also had a 6 hp inboard one lung diesel(..bukka bukka bukka bukka. nothing like that sound) and huge sweeps as backup propulsion. She's truly a beautiful sight. All round and pretty like a perfect child's toy expanded to real size. In fact that's what I first thought when I saw my friend backing her off her trailer and motoring over to the wharf in perfectly still water. Like a toy boat on a pond! Like a toy boat in appearance, but certainly NO toy. Whilst still remaining small, sleek and pretty, everything about Pilgrim's Wake suggests strength and seaworthiness. This was a twenty foot sailboat with radar and a tiller pilot for crying out loud!!

In this extremely well thought out and appointed little ship, my friend sailed singlehanded around Haida Gwai (formerly Queen Charlotte Islands) an area not for the faint of heart, especially Hecate Straight. He also circumnavigated Vancouver Island singled handed as well. He related to me a telling story from one of his trips. I think he was sailing into Granville channel when a large tug passed him heading the same direction. There was much pointing and excited gesticulation from the tug and as they drew near the entire crew of three came out on deck, doffed their hats and bowed solemnly in respect!! Hilarious! , but it gives you an idea of my friend's courage and resolve and the stoutness of his well-founded craft. Here she is under reefed mizzen moored in Plumpers cove on Keats Island in Howe Sound

I enter this story in my usual manner...by acquiring a free boat (from him) in much need of repair(in this case a Chrysler Mutineer that a tree fell on) and became acquainted with Martin and his friend where Pilgrim's Wake lived in the off season. It seemed, that after spending some long days weathering storms in bumpy anchorages on past voyages my friend (who belongs to a golden-agers hiking group, to give you some context) had decided that a boat with some standing headroom would be in order for his next solo sojourn into the north. Perhaps something made out of a material that didn't require so much paint and yearly maintenance. A larger boat that maybe even his wife would join him on!

I think sometimes you spend a long long time investing yourself in something, you enjoy it and go through a lot with it, and then you need a change, or think you do, Like relationships!...So after some research and a few false starts he had decided that he would like an Alberg 30 as his next boat. Providentially an opportunity came up to try one out that summer. Except it was on Thetis Island across Georgia Strait, a 6 hour or so cruise away. Having recently started sharing my moorage with Pilgrim's Wake and being allowed to sail her as a result ,my friend suggested I sail over to Thetis with him. He would transfer his gear to the Alberg and continue on on his adventure and I could sail his boat back to Vancouver and sail her while he was away. Wow! Cool! Adventure, new vistas, a insanely lovely little boat to sail for the summer, what could I say?

I remember checking the charts and tide tables carefully to find a happy conjunction of the least perilous tides we would encounter on the way. From the marina we were at in the mouth of Indian Arm there were two narrows (1st and 2nd under the bridges) in Burrard inlet, that we had to pass through just to get out into English Bay, which opens into Georgia Strait. It's about an hour and a half trip in Pilgrim's Wake which could easily manage 5 knots and sometimes 6 Both Narrows run a strong ornery tide but with a bit of planning you could manage to get them both on the ebb speeding you on your way slightly. Then you cross the straight (about 3-4 hours at 5-6 knots)and traverse Porlier Pass which has a reputation for up to 8 knot tides with whirlpools and all sorts of other stuff just short of sea monsters as far as I was concerned.

I figured it out that we could pass under the bridges and if all went well we would get to Porlier pretty much at slack, get through and slipping between a few other Islands arrive at Thetis in time to use the dredged out 5ft deep channel between Thetis and it's southern Neighbour Kuper Island. I read up a lot ahead of time regarding Porlier pass and the Straight of Georgia in general. There were lot's of warnings about it! One thing that stood out. A fellow said " You do NOT want to be near the mouth of Porlier Pass if there's a flowing tide(out into the Strait) meeting a NE wind. The chop and white water can be very dangerous." "Okay" I thought, I'll time it so that on the way back, by myself, I go through at dead slack.no current, easy peasy! More checking of tide tables, checking distances etc and I had some times for my departure from Thetis to achieve that modest and safe goal. I want my first solo sail through the ill-reputed Porlier Pass and across the Strait of Georgia to be a smooth one.

The day arrived,we met early at the dock armed with sandwiches, backpacks, sunscreen and all the other necessary sundries for a couple day trip in lovely sunny weather. Pilgrim's Wake was all fueled up and ready to go so we set out from the Dollarton on our way to cross Georgia Strait. For the most part it was an uneventful trip. There was some pretty choppy water as we approached Point Grey, but as we rounded the Point and aimed ourselves at the place where Galiano and Valdes Island seem to meet (Porlier Pass) the sea smoothed out , the wind died and it was placid motoring for 4 hours across a glassy sea, eating sandwhiches, reading, testing out the GPS and talking about the plans for the Alberg. We arrived at Porlier Pass and checking the charts, decided on the best angle to miss the hazards(rocks, whirlpools, sea monsters, pirates lairs, that sort of thing).

We cruised on through, raising sail on the far side as the wind picked up again. A little gaff canoe yawl with all sail set is a pretty sight and exhillarating to sail. The very essence of sailing as far as I'm concerned!

Here she is sailing with all sail set in Indian arm during a little photo shoot we did prior to this trip. One of us would be cast off in the dinghy with cameras while the other would sail in circles around the dinghy!.

We sailed between Reid and Hall islands and heading for a little harbour, we dropped sail and slowly motored up to the dredged canal between Thetis and Kuper. I headed forward to sit on the bow and keep an eye on the bottom to ensure we wouldn't run aground. We crept ahead at 2 knots or so with me yelling out port and starboard directions whilst keeping a keen and anxious eye on the bottom. I remember looking back and seeing my friend standing relaxed and casual at the tiller looking for all the world like the quintessential sailboat captain, somehow Gary Cooper meets Humphrey Bogart in his fishermans cap and aviator glasses. We were about halfway through at this point having negotiated several sharp bends in the channel with me shouting out directions, when I asked him a question. He gave me a blank look and yelled "I can't hear a thing you've been saying ! " I relaxed at that point, and of course we made it through no problem arriving in Telegraph harbour on Thetis Island where we tied up to a little float and rowed the dinghy in to meet Martin's friends who owned the Alberg.

Like most of the Gulf Islands, Thetis is a lovely rural place, inhabited by an equal distribution of eccentric folksy regulars and seasonal cabin/home owners. We gave the Alberg a good going over and it seemed like she needed the usual sort of work, bottom paint, brightwork, some interior glass work, the odd light and bit of gear. One thing we needed to do was install a radar and as we didn't have a proper mast climber or bosuns chair we put an aluminum extension ladder up the mast from the bow. Of course we lashed it down well at both ends and had a safety lines on everything and everybody, but there was one moment when my friend was up the mast at the top of the ladder when the owner came down the dock and hopped onto the boat with his girlfriend...... There was a bit of excited hollaring at that let me tell you. It turned that it would take a few days to get everything done so I was free to begin my solo trip back. My very first solo sail across Georgia Strait!

I once again meticulously checked the tide tables and weather and it looked like to have enough time to motor out to Porlier(which was my intention unless there was a decent breeze) to catch the tide at Slack I'd have to wake up a 7am and leave by 8! I talked it over with my friend and the owners of the Alberg. It was going to be a decent 10-15 knot NE Breeze the next day and they said I might as well sleep in. With the tide on the flood out into the strait (around 4knots by 11am) and the NE breeze I'd FLY back to Vancouver they said, no problem. Sleep in, take it easy, have a quick trip back. I mentioned that I'd heard the Pass was dangerous with a flood tide meeting a NE wind but they said no no it'd be great! Well who was I to deny the voices of experience. These people were all old hands at this sort of thing, they lived out here and sailed around fer cryin' out loud. So sleep in I did and left around 9:30 the next day, blowing my conch in farewell as I motored out of Telegraph Harbour. I had to motor south around Thetis and Kuper as the dredged channel was only navigable at high tide, but I had a nice time of it watching the shoreline, checking my charts etc etc. As I rounded the southern tip of Kuper the wind picked up a bit, but as I had to head right into the teeth of it I decided not to raise sail yet.

It was a crisp summer day and I was feeling extra alert so as I was passing Salt Spring Island I plotted my route between the adorably named Mowgli Island and Norway Island to the North, This would bring me back between Hall and Reid Islands and the slight turn to the south would enable me to do a little sailing up to Porlier Pass. I had put off making lunch or tea and decided I would after I passed through Porlier and was on a steady course back across Georgia Strait...(Note to self; On a boat, if you have quiet time to eat, do so rather than putting it off till 'later') It was neat getting the sails up, always fun single handed, I had taken the cover off the Mizzen but decided to just raise the gaff main and unfurl the jib. and off I went, heeling quite a bit in the freshening breeze.

I was making good time, the GPS said I was doing about 5 knots and the wind seemed to be picking up so as I approached the entrance to the pass I furled the jib and started the motor. Having read that it's always wise to have the main up while motoring through a potentially treacherous pass I left it up in case I ran into engine difficulties. Porlier looked pretty rugged. Up ahead of me was this roughly 40' boat making the same passage. I'll follow him I thought. I could make out on the far side of the Pass an ominous line of scary looking white water. As it seemed to be slightly more to the South than I was heading I felt some relief that I would miss it and concentrated on the immediate situation. My speed picked up as I entered the pass, 6 knots... 7 knots..8 knots..woooeee, and then I started hitting the whirlpools which seemed to come out of nowhere. They would grab the bow of the boat and throw it right around, requiring some drastic stearing measures to remain on course, The water began to get rougher with increasingly high chop. I think I was moving at 9 knots at this point and beginning to get a little nervous. I reassured myself that once I was past the pass and out into the open strait things would be a little more calm. I looked ahead at my newfound guide in the 40' boat and saw that he was encountering similiar difficulties but he was nearing the far end of the pass. I watched as he headed towards the open stretch to the North of the line of white water , then gaped in horror as the line of water abruptly swung to the North and enveloped his boat and crossed my path. Yay! I thought as the 40', much larger and heavier boat ahead started to buck, twist and pretty much disappear in the churning white water.

I guess at heart, though I like a good adventure, a bit of adversity, and a brisk sail, I mostly enjoy smooth sailing. It's good to discover that in these sorts of situations you aren't the type that's going to be cowering in the bilge rediscovering religion when things cut up a little rough but I can't say I'll ever learn to really enjoy and savour it as some do.

So I clipped in. My friend had lent me one of his skookum modern inflatable life jackets that's also basically a safety harness and his boat was provided with a springy tether and webbing running fore and aft on both sides. Not that I had ANY idea of leaving the cockpit at this point as the waves grew increasingly larger.I could now look up at them and see the sun shining all icbergy green through their towering peaks..help!. The boat was being tossed about something fierce, it was now feeling like a very very little boat and at about this point I received my first giant wave on the port bow that slammed down the length of the boat, into me , soaking me to the skin and filling my cockpit. It was not unlike getting nailed unexpectedly by a big wave on the beach, one of those moments when you can't believe the all encompassing force of it all as it slams into and around you, completely engulfing you in it's tumult, and are surprised that you're still upright after it's passed. Happily Pilgrims Wake has a shallow self draining cockpit though that didn't help my lunch bag..nor keep me dry.

"Oh Joy!" I thought as i shivered and hung on, the diesel pounded on like a trooper and the breeze now more apparent from the North was filling the main with more vigour. As I shivered in my soaked clothes and steered through the now towering waves I was taking continuously on my port bow. Uuuuuppp uuuup the giant wave ooh ohh ohh and down booom! slamming into the trough, despite my best abilities to ride them then repeat..ad nauseum. Georgia Strait is known for it's short high chop in a blow, and this seemed to be the very thing. I was worried about many things at this point. Firstly that it seemed to be like this ..forvever! It didn't get better on the other side of Porlier Pass,,,it got worse! I wondered about how the hull would take the pounding of the waves, I worried about the mainsail which I wasn't sure how I would take down, I worried about freezing to death, and would I ever get to %^$&*^%*&^ PEE!!!! I also wondered anew about the hereafter and all the good things I'd left undone, not to mention the bad things I'd not left undone!!

Still , here I was,. There was no going back.The tide must've been racing through Porlier at about 5-6 knots at this point. Too fast for me to fight even if I'd wanted to. I had at least 4 hours back to Vancouver and more protected waters and I had to keep the boat upright and steady and in one piece. I also had to keep warm and uhhh continent till then. I decided I should get warm, I remembered I had a dry hoodie and a windbreaker that I could wear, so I leaned over, dragged them out of the cabin, struggled into them in a flash, briefly enjoyed the sensation of dry warmth and then boom another giant wave hit the boat, soaked me to the skin and refilled the cockpit (which of course drained) Now I was mad!! ^%$*^(%$*^%#(*_&)*&%(&^%$(&^ Wave!! my last dry *^&%*&^% clothing!! that I could safely reach!! &^%(&^%%$)*&^_*^%*^% everything! Ah the sea, the romance, distant lands, adventure. and a cold wet @$$! I forgot to be scared I was so P'eed off!!

The waves at this point were quite high, I'm guessing around 6-8 feet though they looked about 15-20 from where I was sitting, and quite close together. There was no gently riding them. I could only try to steer through them, remain on course and keep from falling too hard into the troughs. I kept getting hit by big walls of water and I was getting increasingly nervous about the mainsail as the wind seemed to be getting even more fierce. I had the preventer on to keep it from swinging about as I went up and down the waves and I was spilling a lot of air out of it so I wouldn't heel too much, Still it seemed a little dodgy. i wasn't too keen on bringing it down and having the gaff knock me in the teeth, or worse, overboard! On Pilgrim's Wake there's one of those tiller pilot units that normally works a treat, so I activated it and turned into the wind (and the giant &^%$^ waves) to take pressure off the sail so I could bring it down.

I proceeded to scuttle forward clinging to any purchase that came to hand. This wasn't the best situation as I started nosing up and down straight into these huge troughs and banging straight into the waves. The boat was tossed about even more and the tiller pilot couldn't correct fast or drastically enough .Soon It was starting to seem like I might end up beam on to the waves so I scurried back to the cockpit , unhooked the tiller pilot and swung the bow around to take the waves on an angle again and hunkered down for the long haul. It was then I decided to try and sing all the good singing songs I knew, starting with some Stan Rogers shanties and eventually progressing(or regressing !!) to a hundred bottles of beer on the wall. I can tell you it takes about 13 minutes to sing all of 100 bottles of beer on the wall including ,melodic variations and rude lyrical improvisations. (This really depicts my deteriorated mental state! I'm a musician and a songwriter. I know 100s of great songs. I've written at least a couple hundred my self and I'm singing &^%*&^% hundred bottles of beer on the %&$&^% wall!!) Every once in a while(between soakings and holy ^%$^%@#@^ here comes a huge one!!!!) I would look to the south and see the other 40' sailboat quite a distance away and only flying this tiny hanky of a foresail. Still he was having a rough time of it..I wondered what he thought of my situation???

Occasionally there would be a slight lessening of the force of the wind and waves and I would think "YAY!! it's backing off" but then it would pick up again and I would set my teeth(and my %^$^%&*^ bladder) and soldier on . Well okay the boat was soldiering on. Good 'ol Pilgrim's Wake! Taking a good beating and carrying on regardless. A couple hours later...(I would elaborate on that time but it was frankly more of the same up DOWN up up up up DOWN! bang Aiiieee soaking wet...COLD!!, pissed off! more singing and pacts with the powers that be.) I finally decided I probably wouldn't die and that I just had to tough it out. I also noticed I was heading too far north..I was heading towards Gibsons Landing and not Vancouver,,CRAP! I was pretty worried about being beam on to the wind and or trying to turn downwind so I'd kept the waves on the port bow. I didn't want Pilgrim's Wake to broach. I imagine that to actually experienced old salts this all would've been no big deal, just uncomfortable, but I'd only been sailing for a few years and mostly in dinghy sized vessels in very protected waters.

I finally decided I had to do it. I wanted to go home, enough sailing for today already! I steeled myself for the consequences and swung her around onto a broad reach with the wind on portside stern quarter. Oooohh boy, off I went like a shot. The main filled instantly and I could see the forestay getting quiet frightening slack, flapping in the breeze. The steering became more exciting too as I sawed the tiller back and forth to keep the boat on her new heading with the following waves picking her up and sending her shooting ahead. It was actually pretty fun, and there was a profound pyschological benefit from NOT seeing the huge waves coming at me ..Huzzah off I go heading back to Point Grey and English Bay!! I had cut the motor and was keeping an eye on my speed on the GPS. I was flying along! At one point the GPS read 12 Knots That's almost twice Pilgrim's Wake's hull speed! Little 3000lbs Pilgrim's Wake was surfing the huge waves like a ^%$#&^%$&^% planing dinghy! I was feeling pretty good about it all till I glanced back and saw a huge log sail by behind me apparently initially unnoticed. It was then that I became extra vigilant. Strangely, while watching the water for hazards, I never saw much except branches ahead of me, but a couple of times when I glanced back I again saw large logs going past. Pretty nerve racking, one of those logs would happily punch right through the hull, and though Pilgrim's Wake has full floatation I'm not sure she'd steer so well attached to a 20 foot giant log...

After a while I thought "I'll just keep a sharp eye out, if I get nailed, I deal with it then." Luck and the many and varied sea dieties were with me so I continued unscathed. As I approached Vancouver I could see a clear line defining the deep blue water from the shallow green. It was a lovely sight and happily the conditions started getting slightly milder., I was still flying along("You'll FLY back to Vancouver!!") but the steering was less arduous and I could grab a cold bite to eat,,,,and HALELUHUH!! PEE!!. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself!, I'd weathered the perils of the whipped up straight, I'd avoided being rammed by giant logs, I'd eaten and gone to the bathroom, I could do anything !! So pleased with myself that I almost missed the buoy to avoid the sandbar that extends off of Point Grey. I found it by noting where another sailboat was going. Running aground after making it across the strait would've been pretty silly.

Arriving back in English Bay was great. The wind was still up and the water still a little choppy but as my entire perspective had changed, it didn't bother me in the least. I was halfway across the harbour when I decided to drop sail and just motor for a break, I was pooped!. The rest of the trip , under the bridges and back to the marina was comparatively unexciting. I did manage to break one of Pilgrim's Wake's solar panels when I slipped and inadvertantly sat on it while putting the sail covers on as I motored between the bridges and I noticed that the CQR plow anchor had slipped out of it's bow roller. Happily it was so well lashed on it didn't slip down and trash the hull.

When I got back I actually bent and kissed the earth like you hear of people doing in stories. All in all, a good trial by fire, but perhaps not one I would've chosen. Still it makes a good yarn and lesser jaunts in milder conditions didn't raise the same sorts of trepidations in me any longer. Apparently, I have a little experience under my belt now.