Joyriding on Jason

Regular readers (both of them) know that we have been staying on the Motor Vessel Jason in Seattle. "Caretakers" would be a generous description and "freeloaders" a cynical one. Let's just say we are "Friends of Jason."  Now is the appropriate time for those of you reading for the first time to ask, "What or Who is Jason?"



Here it (she/he?) is:

As noted in the advertisement above, the boat was built for Jay Gould III. However, for most of its life it was owned by Gary Fraser (below, in 2005 or so):

Gary restored the boat to near original (only better) condition over 30 years. His nephew Jim bought Jason last year. Jim and I did a repositioning cruise up from San Diego to Seattle, where Jason now resides. This blog is the story of our trip, and some subsequent adventures.

TIME FOR A BREAK -- Typical photos showing the delights of boating in the Puget Sound area.

END OF BREAK

At this point we should mention that not all boating is snow-capped mountain peaks and uh umm other sorts of peaks.

Some of it is definitely depressions and depressing. Such as the power outage we had for 2 days that sadly sunk a boat across from us, whose bilge pump had no volts for 48 hours. Jason was safe, with strong batteries, a good generator, and an onboard crew.

We took it out for a short ride on Tuesday, in preparation for the big SeaFair extravaganza this coming weekend. While cruising, Jim noticed the Starboard engine was overheating. We shut it down and I drove around slowly for a half-hour while he did troubleshooting to determine the cause.

The diagnosis was a bad water impeller, a small part which circulates ocean or lake water through a heat exchanger, which removes excess heat from the coolant in the diesel engines. It's a water pump (in automotive terms) consisting of a housing and a rotating portion with rubber vanes to push the water. Or at least it is supposed to have rubber vanes. Ours had none! Luckily we carry a spare.

The coolant pump is "conveniently" located here on the side of each John Deere diesel engine.

Of course the engines were running for an hour, so they were plenty hot. Let's say 200° F or just below boiling. All Jim had to do was keep from falling into the still running Port motor, and reach into the engine, remove these 6 screws, pull out the old impeller and all the debris, then refit the new one and put it back together.

Did I forget to mention the 120 decibel noise level, the 120° F air temperature, and that he was on his knees in jeans and a long-sleeve shirt while doing it?

Since our trip resulted in little damage other than some sunburn, we stopped to celebrate at Ivar's Acres of Clams. The Slippery Sue's hat was a gift to Jim from his sister, some time ago.

Yes, boating is surely lots of fun. But only some of the time.

We made it safely back to the dock, and I predict that Jason is out there right now, cruising Lake Washington, while we are in San Diego.

Dealing With Ashes

When a loved one dies, it's quite possible you might end up being asked to deal with their cremated remains. Apparently 44% of the people in the U.S. will be cremated this year. 

We put my mother's ashes into the Pacific 5 years ago, from the foredeck of Jason. Just 10 feet from where I am sitting now. 

My friend Steve (who was on the boat that day) just went to San Felipe, Mexico and sprinkled his uncle Robert Louis Hansen into the water on what would have been his 92nd birthday. 

So it wasn't a great surprise when my brother mentioned that he had some ashes to dispose of, and could we help?

I asked, "Whose?" 

"It's Al" Brian replied (his dad, my step-dad). 

To which I countered, "But Brian, he's been gone at least 6 years!" 

"Wrong. It's been almost 8 years..."

[If you ever have the chance to see a play called "Leaving Iowa," see it. It deals with Ash Procrastination.]

So, after an hour of preparation, we lowered Jason's dinghy and set off. 

I must mention that Brian asked for a salt water service. Al was in the Merchant Marines, and it didn't seem right to leave him in a lake. But we didn't exactly have a rough water vessel.  

Luckily we just had to leave Salmon Bay and go around to Discovery Park. Unluckily, the Ballard Locks are in the way. They would drop and lift us the 12+ feet to sea level. 

This historic facility passes thousands of boats a month from salt-to-fresh water and back. 

We waited 20 minutes in a line of boats, then slipped into the lock as directed, next to a crew of Sea Scouts and a ski boat filled with beer-guzzling ruffians. We were by far the smallest watercraft in the lock. 

We were lowered to sea level and charged out of the lock and around the point to Discovery Park. We had a few quiet moments, shared some appropriate thoughts, and lowered Al's ashes into the water. Brian had brought some white roses too. 

On the way back, Brian pointed out Anthony's HomePort restaurant, sister to Chinook's where he works.  I said "Why not stop for lunch?"

Knowing we could get a meal, no matter what, we coasted into a tiny bay, jumped out, and clambered up the rocks, much to the amazement of other diners and the waiters. 

We didn't get a sunny patio seat but sat just inside. All the restaurant staff came by to say hello to my brother and the crazy folks accompanying him. 

Oyster po'boy with cole slaw

We had a nice lunch made even more pleasant by the friendly service and Brian's employee discount. 

Hopping back into our inflatable craft, we went back to the lock, watched a train go over our heads, and were instructed to tie onto a police boat. 

They had 900 horsepower and a 20,000 lb. vessel, while we had 9 hp for 200 lbs. That sounds about even -- multiply both sides by 100... add the payloads -- we are a 200 lb boat with say, 650 lbs. -- forget it; they're faster!

Rather than go straight home, we foolishly took a detour down the ship canal, where tour boat run by Argosy (ignoring the No Wake rule) half swamped us just off the Lakeside Industries Fremont asphalt plant. 

We pulled over to a public ramp, walked over to Fred Meyer for gelato, then putted home. Damp, sunburnt, and delighted with ourselves. 

Why Beach Boy?

I said in my previous post that the appeal of Buying a boat triggered an existential crisis.

I have owned at least 7 kayaks, a Zodiac inflatable, and had free access to my family's ski boat and my pal's jet ski. I've been on the water a few hundred times in the past 10 years. But these experiences don't necessarily make me a boat lover. 

Beach Boy appealed to me. It's a 32 x 10.5 x 12 foot fantasy space into which one can fall - a black hole of freedom - escaping from other pressing matters:

"Honey, I'll be down at the boat"

"Sorry, I was offshore; didn't get the call"

"Why yes, I did order "a few things for the boat" late last night and no, our credit card wasn't stolen!"

But I digress. 

The Appeal

Beach Boy, a 43-yr-old, diesel-powered, wood-hulled, aquatic tractor. Handsome. Rugged. Dirty fingernails. No hair pomade. Flannel shirt. 

I know it's a bit rough. It looks tough. It's sturdy - meant for hard work. It's much like a black Jeepster Commando I owned for many years. It's a pickup truck on the water. See the cargo bed?

To be truthful, that's a Photoshop fantasy of its cargo area. The reality is more like this:

With a few thousand pounds of stuff needing to be removed, cleaned and sorted.

Imagine the sheer irrationality of owning an old wooden boat that might be useful AND has a pedigree (its creator was marine architect Bill Garden) AND is of reasonable size AND inexpensive (to buy). 

Uncle Gary likes it, saying: "What will you end up with? A classic William Garden-designed character yacht that no one else has. Built by the best boatyard in Canada. Features:  Flying Bridge (everyone wants one)  Dependable Cat diesel.  Twin dry SS exhausts (bet they sound great).  A third control station (very, very cool)  A large cockpit (I would do a full cover like Jason)  Classic lines.  Listed in the BG book with original name.  Chicks will love it!"

Objections?

• It's in Canada. 
• The engine has 3800 hours on it. 
• Top speed is 8-9 knots. 
• It weighs 8-9 tons. 
• Shipping it to San Diego adds 50% to the purchase price. 
• The bunks are cramped. 
• No stove, no microwave, no shower, no hot water, no working electronics, no (you name it)

The Dilemma

To buy or not to buy. 

I can tell my readers are already divided into two camps:

Pro: Go On, you can afford it. You only live once. You're retired, go for it. 

Con: Walk away - no, run away as fast and as far as you can. 

So I got to Seattle, dithered for a day, then called Ian, Beach Boy's owner to arrange for a visit. 

He's 64, 5' 6", from Coventry, England. We had already talked twice, for about an hour, discussing all the details of this boat. This time we talked for 30 minutes. He told me all the reasons I shouldn't buy this boat. He concluded with this zinger:

"I think I already have a buyer. He's got some govt research money. He needs a stout wooden boat to go offshore, shut off the engine, throw out a marine microphone and listen for whales during their southward migration."

Hallelujah! The whales will be researched. Ian will sell the boat. I have narrowly averted (as they say) having to make this decision myself. And the question "Should I buy a boat?" can still be faced another day. 

I like this one ...

This looks like a Lotus Esprit on the water. 

Now this is what I'd really like ...

But realistically, this Bayliner might do:

Back Onboard Jason

Should the Blog Continue?

A year after the eventful sea journey from San Diego to Seattle, we find ourselves up here again, staying aboard Jason at Fishermen's Terminal slip 8-23. 

We planned to come simply for a quiet vacation - but who ever knows what will happen in the future? Events overtook us, and we responded. Events like this:

1. I got mentally tied in knots over the chance to buy an old wooden boat, up in Canada. A vacation suddenly became both a shopping trip and a chance for self-examination and introspection. "What? Me, buy a boat?"

2. My brother Brian revealed he needed to spread a box of ashes from his dad (my step-father). After an 8-year delay, the need turned into a venture - into the dinghy, through the locks, and out into the wide open salty sea (actually, Puget Sound).

3. As always, GOOD FOOD was part of our adventure.  Crab. Oysters. Salmon. Shrimp. And Sauvignon Blanc. (Plus Salumi)

4. I don't know. We're only on our 2nd day. 

Would you like to know how these events transpired?

If even 1 person responds, I'll continue the blog, explaining, illustrating and enlightening. 

Let me know! I know someone is burning with curiosity...