May 22, 2022 | Blog, Home Slider
Photo: Here’s a picture of my newly rescued mainsail in the backyard, draped over lawn furniture. More to come…
I’m starting a journal of sorts here, to document a journey I am on, that has been ongoing and now requires me to stretch myself in ways I am not used to. It’s a very maritime journey and that’s why I’m writing about it here.
This story is about finishing the restoration of a sailboat I bought 10 years ago with my dad, that he and I worked on up until he died in 2019, a few months before the pandemic started to make itself known. She sat in the barn for two years during the pandemic and I debated sadly whether to sell her as is, or try to get her in the water after all. I finally went down to the barn where she’s currently stored and faced the music a few months ago and decided I wanted to give this a try. At the very least, I want no regrets.
This boat was and is a very special boat to me: she’s a 22 ft double ender, a sloop (formerly a cutter rig) with a woodstove and oar locks for rowing. She’s got so much character. I admired her for years at the Warrenton Marina, where she sat in a berth there, until one day I ran into her owner on the Riverwalk in Astoria. When I admired his boat, for probably the millionth time, he abruptly offered to sell her to me for hardly anything.
My dad, who built our first boat when I was a kid in coastal NY, went down to the boat with me and we looked her over (she was in sorry shape but still afloat) and I asked him, “Can we fix her?”
He stood there for awhile and finally said, “Yes we can…” and so began the journey of him and me and my boat, Passage. I love her name and I hope I can get her in the water. If I do, it will be both a test of my resourcefulness, and a testimony to my dad, who intended this boat restoration to be sort of a gift to me. He died before he could finish it – and one of the last things he said to me was, “I’m sorry I couldn’t finish the boat.”
It’s OK, Dad. I’ll see if I can finish the job. Deep breaths.
In a way, now I get to do what I like best: MacGuyver my way through things, figure them out, think things through, and find a way when there’s no way. This seems like one of those things.
So I thought I would take you on this journey with me and we’ll see where it leads. Yesterday I took the mainsail, stained with mouse pee where it sat in a sailbag in a corner for years – soaked it in the bathtub with Oxyclean for 24 hours, and hosed it off in the backyard. Voila! Stains gone, and the sail is white and lovely again. I just ordered sail cloth and thread to repair a hole where some damn mouse chewed the sail.
There are many tasks like this that I will be taking on in the next month or so. I’ll take you with me in these posts, so you can see what I’m up to. It will be an interesting journey and I’m learning a lot.
I already know a bit about all this sailboat stuff – you don’t grow up as Stu Rideout’s daughter and not know a lot about boats. I spend my childhood in boatyards, helping him build and repair boats, sanding and painting and learning. I’ve done a lot of sailing on the Columbia locally here with the yacht club.
But there are also big holes in my knowledge too. So the Internet is a godsend. About the weirdest things… like where else can you Google “mouse pee on sails” and find a website called the Stingy Sailor that has just the perfect solution I used successfully?
So I thought this would be a fun adventure to share.
Onwards. Wish me courage, and luck.
Takeaway: Oxyclean is amazing for cleaning sails.
Feb 18, 2020 | Blog, Home Slider
I’ve gotten some questions from listeners about ships arriving in the Columbia River from China, and possible Coronavirus risks.
So I contacted our local USCG folks at Air Station Astoria, where the Captain of the Port for the Columbia is located. Here’s their reply:
- The Coast Guard is supporting nationwide efforts to prevent, protect, and mitigate the spread of the Novel Coronavirus.
- Vessels carrying passengers that have been to China (excluding Hong Kong and Macau) or embarked passengers who have been in China (excluding Hong Kong and Macau) within the last 14 days will be denied entry into the United States.
- The Coast Guard is assessing all Advanced Notice of Arrival Reports from inbound vessels to determine if the vessel has visited a country impacted by the Novel Coronavirus within the last five ports of call.
- The health and safety of the American people is our top priority.
- The Coast Guard will review all Advanced Notice of Arrivals from inbound vessels to determine if a vessel has visited a country impacted by the Novel Coronavirus outbreak within its last five ports of call.
- Vessel representatives are required to report sick or deceased crew or passengers within the last 15 days to the CDC.
We don’t usually get cruise ships here this time of year, so that caveat probably doesn’t apply to us here right now. The trip from China to here takes at least two weeks by cargo ship, so anyone who is not showing symptoms would have enough time to be visibly ill by the time they got here. Vessels are also being monitored for their last five ports of call before they get here, to assess risks.
Jan 13, 2020 | Blog
I’ve been thinking a lot about what to say on The Ship Report today about the tragedy on the beach at Falcon Cove near Cannon Beach this weekend. A dad and his two small children were swept out to sea by what seems to have been a sneaker wave. The two children died and the dad was still in the hospital Sunday.
I talk about safety a lot on the Ship Report and I usually mention it when something like this happens, as a cautionary note. I hope the message of safety reaches people.
I can’t imagine the torment this father will go through in the aftermath of this event. What’s called for now is compassion in the face of unspeakable loss.
But I do have a few thoughts that might be useful, beyond the usual safety warnings: Saturday I felt distraught and sad about this, and I know from reading social media posts that other people felt it too. That’s the thing about living in a coastal community. We’re tight-knit here, like it or not, and we feel what’s happening to one another. When a boat goes down, or a person is lost overboard, or people get swept out to sea, we all grieve. And we’re grieving now, again. It’s a price we pay for living in this beautiful, dangerous place.
To get some perspective, I drove to Cape Disappointment Saturday and did what I have been telling you all to do when these storms hit: I went up to the Visitor Center on top of the cliff and went to the big observation room where you can look out over the Columbia River Bar. I was able to sit alone for awhile and stare out the window at the mouth of the river. A line of breakers 20 feet high was creating a formidable barrier to anyone wanting to cross. No one was.
As I sat there watching the water closely, I was struck by the raw, seething, tremendous power in it. We see it somewhat in the gorgeous photos people take of giant waves exploding in the air at Waikiki Beach, or in the pounding surf you can hear for miles away. As I looked at the water roiling at the base of the cliff, and churning out on the bar, I could feel the immense, overwhelming energy there. That force is part of our experience every time we get near the shore, or venture out in a boat. It’s the force that sinks ships and fishing boats, pounds beached vessels to bits, and drags buoys off their moorings. It’s more powerful than any of us. And it’s your companion on every beach walk, every boat ride, every trip to the coast.
The confusing thing is, on Saturday, despite all the warnings, it just didn’t look that bad out there, even though it was. When I was there, there were no towering waves, like in a movie, and for someone unfamiliar with the ocean, it looked like a stormy day like many others. But out there, the ocean was full of wild energy waiting to be expressed in potentially destructive ways.
Please don’t ever forget that the ocean is there, that it’s bigger than you, and does not necessarily have your best interests at heart, or care that you came there to have a good time. The warnings are not for the timid, for those who are easily scared off. They’re for everyone, even the strong and young, and there’s no shame in heeding them.
If we have any adventurous spirit in us at all, we’ve sometimes put ourselves in situations where, had the wrong thing happened, we could have died. I know I have. If we’re still here, we’re fortunate. Dan Haag, head of the Manzanita Visitor Center, said it best in a Facebook post this weekend. Find a loved one and hug them tight. I’d add this: please do your best to keep them off the beach when conditions are severe. That’s love in action.
And, a heartfelt thank you to our first responders who stand ready to go into harm’s way at a moment’s notice. That’s love in action too. We are fortunate to have them, the Coast Guard. and local law enforcement rescue personnel. They do their best for us every day, no matter what, without judgment. Another big thing to be grateful for. That’s all I have right now. Be safe out there, and take care of each other.
—
Jan 7, 2020 | Blog
I had a question on social media recently about a reference I made to the Columbia River Bar being on Yellow status. Someone had not heard me talk about this on the Ship Report, and was confused. So I thought my blog would be a good place to explain this.
The three colors refer to the relative accessibility for ships seeking to cross the waters at the mouth of the Columbia River in Oregon and Washington. Cargo ships come and go regularly there and are accompanied on board, by law, by bar pilots, trained marine professionals who have decades of ship handling experience. They know the river by heart and can safely guide ships in and out.
The pilots have jurisdiction over ship traffic, and they work with the US Coast Guard to safeguard the waters on the bar for large commercial vessels. There are three potential statuses the bar can have on any given day: Normally it’s on Green status, which means business as usual. When the weather worsens, as it often does in fall and winter, to the point where it might be hard to control a ship entering or leaving the river, the pilots raise the status to Yellow, which means ships are allowed to cross on a case-by-case basis. Some under-powered ships may be asked to wait until the weather is better. If things really go to hell in a handbasket, so to speak, the bar will go to Red status, which means that conditions are too dangerous for all but a few very hardy and maneuverable ships to cross. Decisions on this are up to the pilots.
You can see the status of the Columbia River Bar for ship traffic anytime by going to the Columbia River Bar Pilots website, at www.columbiariverbarpilots.com
For recreational and smaller commercial vessels like fishing boats, the US Coast Guard has jurisdiction over bar restrictions and closures. Here’s a link to Oregon and Washington bar status links per the USCG:
https://www.wrh.noaa.gov/pqr/marine/BarObs.php
Questions? Email me at ships@shipreport.net
– Joanne
Jul 13, 2019
This month I had a request from the USCG at Air Station Astoria, where they asked if one of their personnel could come on the show and talk about safety, just before the 4th of July holiday weekend. They wanted to let people know about the dangers inherent in living in a dynamic coastal area like the Oregon and Wasington coast, and about the laws regarding fireworks use. I learned some things I didn’t know. For instance, did you know it’s a felony to shoot off a flare for fun? Flares on not fireworks and if you shoot one into the sky and a USCG rescue is launched because of it, you could be charged with a felony and get fined big bucks. So, lots to learn here. The Coast Guard does so much for us, let’s not make them work any harder than they have to. Here is some sage and valuable advice from USCG Petty Officer Trevor Lilburn:
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Jul 13, 2019 | Blog, Home Slider
This month I had a request from the USCG at Air Station Astoria, where they asked if one of their personnel could come on the show and talk about safety, just before the 4th of July holiday weekend. They wanted to let people know about the dangers inherent in living in a dynamic coastal area like the Oregon and Wasington coast, and about the laws regarding fireworks use. I learned some things I didn’t know. For instance, did you know it’s a felony to shoot off a flare for fun? Flares on not fireworks and if you shoot one into the sky and a USCG rescue is launched because of it, you could be charged with a felony and get fined big bucks. So, lots to learn here. The Coast Guard does so much for us, let’s not make them work any harder than they have to. Here is some sage and valuable advice from USCG Petty Officer Trevor Lilburn:
Podcast: Play in new window
Subscribe: Email | | More
May 31, 2019 | Blog, Home Slider
I have good news for podcast folk: The Ship Report website is up to date, finally, after a rocky patch where I struggled to keep up with it. Thank you for sticking with me. If you were put off by the lack of posts, I hope you’ll come back.
Within the past year or so, I launched a new Ship Report website, posted podcasts to it, and then did a not very good job of keeping them current, while juggling the consuming duties of being my elderly father’s caretaker in the final phase of his life. His long and well-lived existence came to an end on April 4 of this year. Ninety-eight years of being his own amazing person, and most important to me – my dad.
For people who didn’t know him, he was one of the most intelligent and innovative people I’ve ever met. When I was a kid I looked up to him and thought he knew everything. When I got older, I realized this wasn’t far off the mark, and mot much of an exaggeration. It seemed he really DID know everything, at least everything in my world. When I was a kid he built our first television, built new kitchen cabinets for my mother, built a sailboat when he decided he wanted a boat, and renovated a larger wooden boat later when he wanted a larger craft. He was always building and inventing things. He knew a lot and what he didn’t know, he studied until he got it.
He was a scientist for a living, working among a high end group of professionals at Brookhaven National Laboratory, in New York, during the era of the budding atomic reactor and the creation of the atomic bomb. He used to come home from work in black government-issued sedans with the Atomic Energy Commission logo on the door. When I was little he flew to Los Alamos, New Mexico, as part of the Manhattan Project. He was a computer guy when computers were new, and a math major in college, which he attended on the GI Bill.
To me he was a kind, generous and demanding dad. He always had my back, but he expected a lot. To make a long story short, I loved him dearly and we were very close, and he was always there for me. I always felt like I never quite lived up to his expectations for me, but I would imagine a lot of us feel that way about our parents.
So, in these last couple of months, I have been grieving the loss of a man who has defined my life in many ways, and certainly taught me the strong work ethic, honesty and commitment that I feel today about the things I do. Grieving is a journey, as anyone who has lost a loved one knows.
He taught me to love the sea, and the same salt water that ran in his blood also runs in mine. It’s because I’m Stu Rideout’s daughter that the Ship Report has become such a fascination and long term project for me. I’ve been doing the show for 16 years and I still love it. There is always more to learn and to share. And I still get a sense of happy well-being when I on something that’s floating, whether it’s a kayak, a sailboat or a ship.
The Ship Report website is pretty much up to date now with podcasts, and I hope you check it out. I feel ready now to keep it current, and that’s why I’m bringing it up. There are a few missing reports here and there, and in the ensuing weeks I’ll go through and see if I can retrieve and post them.
On the new site, the most recent posts are displayed in the rotating graphic at the top of the page, and you can click through them. If you just want to see the entire list of what’s on the site, just click any link that says Ship Report Podcasts.
Finally, many thanks to all of you who are on this Ship Report journey with me, loyal through my ups and downs. I have you in mind every time I go on the air, and I am always seeking interesting things to talk about that I hope you find interesting too. Thank you for sharing in this wonderfully nerdy maritime journey we are on together. And, always, always, thanks for listening.
