Willapa Wanderer
New member
- Joined
- Aug 27, 2009
- Messages
- 4
- Fluid Motion Model
- C-24 C SE
- Hull Identification Number
- 2112
- Vessel Name
- Sadie
We live three blocks above the Willapa River in the little town of South Bend in southwest Washington State. Although our home is high on a hill, the downtown of the burg on Highway 101 was basically built on fill and is at or below sea level. We're only about 11 miles from the Pacific by boat. We are buffered from the ocean by the Long Beach Peninsula, a long, narrow strip of land that is prominent in the lower left-hand corner of the state. Good for us - bad for the thousands of people who live there if we have a tsunami.
We are always mindful of the elements and have an emergency radio that, fortunately, works well. We received the tsunami alert around 12:30 am Friday morning and immediately thought of our dear friends who live in Mutsu City on the northern Japanese coast. They visited us last summer and we were there several years ago. We found out this morning that they are fine.
I have a 21-EC that I keep moored downtown in downtown South Bend. The "Sadie" is my pride and joy. It's the only pleasure craft moored here and I play on the river regularly. It's a little hard on it to leave it in the water year-round, but I'm 65 and bought it to use, and use it I do.
We turned first to the Weather Channel to get an idea of what was going on. That, combined with what I could glean off the Internet, gave us a general idea of what was going on and what sort of worst-case scenario to expect. It was not looking good for the west coast so TWIL (the woman I love) gave me the elbow and told me that I need to get my boat out of the water. She encouraged me to call a friend or two for some help since I had never launched or retrieved by myself. There's a great boat launch about a quarter mile from my moorage.
I did not want to wake anyone at 2:30 am. My friends, unlike me, are not retired and had to work later in the morning so I decided to take on the project by myself. I dressed, hooked up the trailer in the back yard and headed to town. Hooking up the trailer turned out to be the most arduous task of the night.
I planned to leave the truck at the boat launch and then walk the quarter mile or so to the boat. I figured a brisk walk would do me good. As I was on my way through town to the boat launch I saw a policeman heading my way in his cruiser. I stopped and he stopped and he said he thought it was a good idea to haul out the boat. Although the predictions were for little or no tidal action locally, it certainly made sense to err on the side of caution.
I asked him for a ride from the boat launch to the dock and he graciously said, “Sure”. He dropped me off and I navigated the seagull poop on the dock (it’s about 50 yards from a major oyster cannery), unlocked the gate and headed for the boat. I soon realized that I had failed to bring a tool to cut the zip-tie that was holding the cabin door shut so I could snake an extension cord through it for a cabin heater.
I begrudgingly set out to walk back to the boat launch to get my Leatherman from my back pack that I ALWAYS take with me to the boat. This is a town of 1600. We do roll up the sidewalks at 9 pm. Except for one tavern NOTHING is open downtown after 9. But, to my joy, a very nice local guy was just finishing his night duty cleaning the local supermarket a block from the dock. I hollered, “Randy, do you have a razor blade?” Does a grocery guy have a razor blade? You bet!
Not only did he have a razor blade, but he asked me if I could use some help. I thanked him and said I’d be at the dock in about ten minutes and trundled back to the boat, cut the tie, removed the deck cover, fired her up (sweet music), cast off, and headed down the river to the boat launch.
As I approached the dock at the boat launch I noticed that the Hugh, the policeman was there, also. What a deal! They caught me as I snuggled “Sadie” up to the dock and offered to back the truck down for me since I had pre-apologized for my backing skills. I politely declined the offer saying I have to learn to do it myself. This was only the fourth time the boat had come out of the water in 18 months and I’m not very experienced at backing up.
Well, since everything else was finally going well, I backed that trailer down the ramp perfectly. They floated the boat on the trailer within about two feet of the winch and I just pulled that baby on tight, exited without incident, dropped the mast, and headed for high ground!
Life is sure good in a small town. I shouldn’t be surprised because that is just what we do here. I joke that we are all adrift in the same lifeboat and that felt literally true Friday morning.
Fortunately, we had only a minimal tidal surge. The folks on the Peninsula were evacuated, but the big waves did not come. Things are settling down for us, but what a tragedy for the Japanese. So heartbreaking.
We are always mindful of the elements and have an emergency radio that, fortunately, works well. We received the tsunami alert around 12:30 am Friday morning and immediately thought of our dear friends who live in Mutsu City on the northern Japanese coast. They visited us last summer and we were there several years ago. We found out this morning that they are fine.
I have a 21-EC that I keep moored downtown in downtown South Bend. The "Sadie" is my pride and joy. It's the only pleasure craft moored here and I play on the river regularly. It's a little hard on it to leave it in the water year-round, but I'm 65 and bought it to use, and use it I do.
We turned first to the Weather Channel to get an idea of what was going on. That, combined with what I could glean off the Internet, gave us a general idea of what was going on and what sort of worst-case scenario to expect. It was not looking good for the west coast so TWIL (the woman I love) gave me the elbow and told me that I need to get my boat out of the water. She encouraged me to call a friend or two for some help since I had never launched or retrieved by myself. There's a great boat launch about a quarter mile from my moorage.
I did not want to wake anyone at 2:30 am. My friends, unlike me, are not retired and had to work later in the morning so I decided to take on the project by myself. I dressed, hooked up the trailer in the back yard and headed to town. Hooking up the trailer turned out to be the most arduous task of the night.
I planned to leave the truck at the boat launch and then walk the quarter mile or so to the boat. I figured a brisk walk would do me good. As I was on my way through town to the boat launch I saw a policeman heading my way in his cruiser. I stopped and he stopped and he said he thought it was a good idea to haul out the boat. Although the predictions were for little or no tidal action locally, it certainly made sense to err on the side of caution.
I asked him for a ride from the boat launch to the dock and he graciously said, “Sure”. He dropped me off and I navigated the seagull poop on the dock (it’s about 50 yards from a major oyster cannery), unlocked the gate and headed for the boat. I soon realized that I had failed to bring a tool to cut the zip-tie that was holding the cabin door shut so I could snake an extension cord through it for a cabin heater.
I begrudgingly set out to walk back to the boat launch to get my Leatherman from my back pack that I ALWAYS take with me to the boat. This is a town of 1600. We do roll up the sidewalks at 9 pm. Except for one tavern NOTHING is open downtown after 9. But, to my joy, a very nice local guy was just finishing his night duty cleaning the local supermarket a block from the dock. I hollered, “Randy, do you have a razor blade?” Does a grocery guy have a razor blade? You bet!
Not only did he have a razor blade, but he asked me if I could use some help. I thanked him and said I’d be at the dock in about ten minutes and trundled back to the boat, cut the tie, removed the deck cover, fired her up (sweet music), cast off, and headed down the river to the boat launch.
As I approached the dock at the boat launch I noticed that the Hugh, the policeman was there, also. What a deal! They caught me as I snuggled “Sadie” up to the dock and offered to back the truck down for me since I had pre-apologized for my backing skills. I politely declined the offer saying I have to learn to do it myself. This was only the fourth time the boat had come out of the water in 18 months and I’m not very experienced at backing up.
Well, since everything else was finally going well, I backed that trailer down the ramp perfectly. They floated the boat on the trailer within about two feet of the winch and I just pulled that baby on tight, exited without incident, dropped the mast, and headed for high ground!
Life is sure good in a small town. I shouldn’t be surprised because that is just what we do here. I joke that we are all adrift in the same lifeboat and that felt literally true Friday morning.
Fortunately, we had only a minimal tidal surge. The folks on the Peninsula were evacuated, but the big waves did not come. Things are settling down for us, but what a tragedy for the Japanese. So heartbreaking.