Thlaloca! An Unexpected Blast from the Past...

What a superb little boat.
I was the 4th owner of Thlaloca a sloop rigged trekka sistership built in 1959-60 by Hein Zenker
Hein & his wife Siggi sailed Thlaloca around the world starting in '61 with a small dog aboard.  Mentioned in a book titled 
The Circumnavigators  by Donald Holm.
 
I set out for the Carribean in 1985 from the Bahamas and got a bit hammered;  the boat could take way more than it's crew.
We were surfing down 20' waves before I got sail reduced and finally hove to for 3 days and then turned back in.
You definitely don't go the "Thorny Path" to the Carribean in this boat.  My mistake, not the boat's.

Considering that Thlaloca was built circa 1960 at a cost of $2800 (1960 dollars) and that I sold her in 1987 for $10,000
(1987 dollars) your price of 10k in todays dollars represents an excellent value for such a boat.
May she find the adventurous soul to cross a couple oceans in her-she's a real thorough-bred and can take you almost anywhere.

best of luck
John 

Thlaloca, another "Trekka" sistership.

Out of the blue, I received this email from an admirer of TERN.  As stated above, Thlaloca circumnavigated as well--with two adults and a dog!  No more excuses from the folks who say she's too small.  She's just small!  So thankful to read this generous email, and bittersweet to want to be on the sea, sailing TERN, to a warm, clear-watered destination.

Images From A Recent Adventure...

Anchored in the fog.

Parks Bay, a great anchorage, but seems to be a fave with the power boaters.

A raucous close reach back from Stuart Is.

Too foggy to go, so I went paddling!

Heading to Port Townsend!

Yes, I'll be sailing TERN to Port Townsend and should be there Saturday and Sunday.  I'm not sure yet wether I'll anchor out every night, or be at a dock for Friday or Saturday night.  Either the Port Townsend boat harbor or the Pt. Hudson marina.  If anchored, I'll be to the west of the ferry landing, near the P.T. marina.

Come say "HI!"

"The Wind Is My Engine"

Wow!  We've had some great sailing in the last week here in the San Juan Islands.  Djuna's sister was visiting us from landlocked Colorado, so we decided to sail TERN to Friday Harbor for some "city life".  Had a great lunch at Pablito's, checked out the used clothing store, and enjoyed the town, glad to be independent of the ferry schedule and huge lines of traffic.  It's so nice to utilize the privilege of having TERN to embark on these small adventures, and to share the beauty of the area with other people.

Djuna, my love, at the helm, TERN going nicely.

 A day later, a big fan of the boat came out for a look and a sail.  It was great to meet Sam, and I appreciated talking with him and sharing stories while we reached back and forth across West Sound in 12 knots of wind.  One of the many things we talked about was what brings happiness in one's life.  I reflected on this as we sailed and realized that, though there are costs and complexities involved with boat ownership, there is so much value in the quality time spent moving over the water in a snug, simple vessel.   There is a synergy between the sailor and the boat to where, at times, I literally feel what the boat is experiencing--as though I've inherited a new body carefully constructed of yellow cedar, oak, stainless steel, and sail.  It is as it should be;  the medium through which we move imparting movement and vibrations (itself, really) onto me, the traveller.

Close reaching with current assisting, we make the south point of Shaw.

Now I'm lining up my schedule to sail the boat to the Deer Harbor wooden boat festival (which occurs between the Victoria and Port Townsend event), where the boat will get a lot of attention, I'm sure.  After that, Port Townsend for a weekend of good sailing, beautiful boats, and great sailing for me across the Straits of Juan de Fuca....unless, of course, TERN captures someone's fancy earlier.

Heaving-to

Heaving-to is different for every vessel;  variations on lateral resistance (what's under the water), distribution of sail area, rudder angle, and weight distribution (which affects lateral resistance) ensure that no two boats will heave to in exactly the same way.

Why heave-to?  For some, it's merely a way to cease forward movement of the vessel while a task is completed;  a quick compass bearing and plotting of position, a dash down below for a snack, a minute spent studying a new shoreline with the binoculars.  At other times; a good sleep in heavier weather, a respite from violent motion to cook a meal, or to forestall a nighttime arrival to a new shore.  To retrieve a person overboard, it's extremely valuable to heave-to just to windward of the swimmer to make lifting them out of the water more easy, and (if they are mobile) to facilitate them swimming those last few feet to the boat.

The other day, I decided to heave-to to with the genoa and main.  I wanted to prepare myself and TERN for a riskier move: sailing through a narrow pass with strong currents and the presence of other boat traffic.  First, a quick risk assessment--what could go wrong, what are the probabilities of each "incident" occurring, and what are the consequences of such?

Risks:
1) other boat traffic, and lack of awareness that vessels under sail have right of way
2) sudden loss or change of wind setting me irretrievably towards rocks
3) not enough wind to power TERN through against the current

Probabilities:
for 1) high probability
for 2) high probability
for 3) high probability

Consequences:
for 1) high consequences if a collision occurred. Most potentially costly incident.  Affects more than one vessel/person.
for 2)  possible damage to boat, damaged ego.
for 3)  low consequence, as long as there is room to change course 180 degrees.

Managing Risks:
for 1) visually check for traffic, attempt to navigate channel after traffic has gone through, have VHF radio on and broadcast a "securite" on 16 communicating my intent and that I'm under sail.
for 2) have anchor ready to go (unsecured/all line run free/no tangles), have trusty canoe paddle handy to  use for propulsion, and pivoting.  Also, attempt on a rising tide; kedging off possible if need be.  Have sheets and halyards such that they can run free and be released or tensioned with no snags.  Have outboard ready to use quickly, should the need arise.
for 3) ensure that there is no boat traffic or other hazards behind, so a retreat with the current would be possible.

So, every item on the Management side of things I actually had set up.  There was still a risk that things could go wrong, but by having a management plan, either the probability or consequences (or both) can be reduced.

Heaving-to allowed me the time, with a minimum change in position and a maximum readiness to sail, to grab anything I needed in preparation for the passage through the narrow channel.  This is one of many tactics that engineless sailors use all the time, and for me, it gives a lot of depth and dimension to the activity of sailing small boats.

Sailing TERN

Yesterday I went for a great sail.  The only downside was that I had to come back!

The wind was a steady 10-12 kts. from the southwest,  a perfect breeze to get TERN moving nicely under genoa and main.  I live in an area where understanding and using the currents have a huge influence on successfully arriving at your intended destination, and decided to head west, even though I knew this would mean fighting the flood on the way back.

Some tricky tacking and utilization of puffs in Wasp Passage--a notorious lee with strong current and a few reefs had us out in the open at the N. end of San Juan Channel on a close reach toward Jones Island.    As the standing rigging is still relatively new, I took this opportunity to sight up the mast to determine if any adjustments to tension might be needed.  Seemed like the upper section of the mast was bending slightly to leeward so I made a mental note to tension the upper shrouds when I was back at a dock.  Ideally, the mast should have a slight and fair curve to leeward for better foil shape in the main.  This usually means that the lowers give and take a little bit more than the uppers, but none of the shrouds should ever be "flopping" or totally slack.

At this point I was really wishing I had a couple weeks' supply of food, my passport,  and my small kayak "dinghy".  The water in the leeward wake was effervescing beautifully and the occasional wave on the windward bow would smack and splash onto the foredeck.  TERN felt quite alive!

The flood was just starting to crank now and I could see our strong set to the north using visual transits. I decided to jibe and cruise into Deer Harbor to escape some of the current as we made our way back to the east.  So far, the whole sail, including leaving the marina had been without the engine, but as we  approached Pole Pass I conservatively made the outboard ready for use as I knew the current might be 4 knots on the nose and there's a frustrating absence of wind there due to geography.  I ended up motor- sailing for about 5 minutes uphill through the pass, then cut the engine again.  The wind had freshened up nicely and we sailed against the current into the entrance to West Sound to escape it.  Using eddies all the way to an unnamed point, we tacked back to the south and ferry-glided into Blind Bay.

One of my favorite things is to sail TERN amongst all of the anchored boats visiting Blind Bay.  It's a great anchorage with lots of room, great holding, nice sunsets,  and Shaw Island's low topography doesn't block the usually good breeze coming up from the Straits of Juan De Fuca.  Once all the way to head of the bay, there was nowhere to go but aground or home; jibe, wing and wing, jibe, wing and wing, through the narrow passage to the west of Blind Island, then across to the marina.

Even when sailing TERN in strong winds, the helm is incredibly neutral due to the balanced rudder.  With the tiller held in a reasonable position, one can even adjust course by tightening the jib sheet while slacking the main a little (to fall off) or loosening the jib sheet while hardening up on the main (to come up).  These are great observations to make for anyone wanting to understand their boat better, to understand how some boats can be steered without a rudder, and to begin to plan a sheet-to-tiller self-steering setup.

Being Fluid

The process of selling TERN has been full of unexpected emotions and experiences.  As I've stated before, I decided to offer TERN for sale solely because I want to sail to kayaking destinations with my kayaks (a 16' sea kayak, and an 8' surf kayak).  Tern is a pretty small platform to efficiently carry other boats with.  But my heart is still attached to TERN.

One of the coolest things recently has been the connections and conversations I've had with people who love the boat.  TERN seems to attract people who I feel many commonalities with; a love for the simple life, a minimalist approach to sailing and adventuring, and an appreciation for the spirit and soul of what some might call an "inanimate" object.  I could never think of a custom built boat as an inanimate object--how could it be when it takes on so much energy imbedded in the materials, the work and love of the builder(s), and the appreciation of those who orchestrate its movement on the water?

During the last 6 months, I've acquired a trimaran, then realized that though it is an incredible craft, and has an amazing rig and sail inventory, it needs to be taken to a covered shop and some fairly extensive cabin house repairs are needed.  It's hard to justify spending the time and money, when TERN is so ready to go.  I've decided to put more energy into TERN and aim to touch up the brightwork a bit, and order some new lexan for the portlights.

It's funny how giving something (or someone) your attention can re-invigorate your fondness for them.

So, while I'd still like to find a ready-to-go small multihull, I will continue to give love and attention to, and sail, TERN.  She is the boat I have right now, and as they say..."the best boat is the boat you own".

The Re-naming ceremony

Though it happened a while back,  here's how the changing of the name ceremony went down...

I'm not a particularly superstitious person, but with boats, and the sea, I make some exceptions.  I felt like the boat which was named "Dragonfly" when I bought her, deserved a more graceful and appropriate title. The description of the bird, a Tern is...."a graceful and nimble creature, fiercely loyal, buoyant in flight, a global traveller."  What could be better?, I thought.

A day was spent cleaning,  scrubbing, replacing the red mainsail with the new one (a new set of wings!). I carefully removed the old name, painting over the area where the adhesive letters had been, and applied the four new letters.  Humble and simple.

So with the word "TERN" proudly showing on the stern, I raised the new main and slipped away from the dock and out the breakwater in the evening beauty.  Once clear of the breakwater, I raised the new Genoa as well, and in the 8 knot breeze we started moving beautifully--light, nimble, and buoyant.

Of course, the ritual was not over;  next came the tequila--a swig for the sea, a swig for TERN (down the cockpit drain), a swig for my friend (and witness to the ceremony), and a swig for me.   Then another swig for me and my companion.  Just to be safe.

TERN the day of the renaming

TERN the day of the renaming ceremony.  New main visible.

After a great sail in the evening light, we headed back to the marina.  My friend and I said goodnight, and I spent more time down below, making a fire in the wood stove, savoring a beer and some food, and just enjoying the "belly" of TERN in the glow of the two candle lanterns.

TERN

Though no coin was put under the mast, and no bottles were broken over the bow, I know with full confidence that the powers that be, and TERN, feel duly respected with the process.

History of TERN

TERN, July 2010

TERN was built by a fellow named Scott Schmidt in the late 1970's.  He dreamt of building his noble craft and taking her offshore, and put incredible energy and love into the boat.  He began construction in Lisbon Oregon, after acquiring the plans from Laurent Giles' firm in England.  While Trekka was built with Western Red Cedar, Scott had found a beautiful supply of Port Orford Cedar (a type of yellow cedar), which had been cherry-picked for boat building because of it's straight grain.  This is a superior material for strength and rot/insect resistance.  Scott followed the plans to a "t" and, after completion, he lived aboard and sailed the waters between Seattle and North Vancouver Island.  From there, his life changed and he sold the boat to someone who sailed her up to Alaska and back.  Years later, the boat changed hands again and a Swiss man named Louis took stewardship of her for the next 15 years.

Phoca at anchor

I first saw the boat when my girlfriend (now wife) and I arrived in the Pacific Northwest after completing a N. Pacific voyage on our Atkin-designed ketch, PHOCA.  Our journey took us from Bellingham, to Southern California, Mexico, Hawaii and back, and we learned a lot about offshore sailing, what works as far as interior layout, equipment and sail inventory.  Anyway, I spotted this lovely sloop at the marina we had arrived at, and went to have a look while we dried our sails.  Immediately I recognized the design as very similar to Trekka, but with a sloop rig instead of yawl. The boat appealed to me in its simplicity and ruggedness, and had a distinct look which I liked. Other aspects of the design were almost identical.

A few years went by during which we sold our ketch "Phoca", bought some land, and created a simple, beautiful homestead.   As life got more comfortable on our property, and the list of projects shrank to a fraction of what it had been for years, I again heard the siren call of another boat, and sailing.

I found out who owned the sloop (then called Dragonfly) and gave him a call.  Louis met me at the boat and I got to see belowdecks for the first time.  It was like  a wooden gem inside.  As I looked at the way things had been designed, built and maintained, I knew that this was a vessel I wanted to sail and own, and put my own energy into.  A deal was struck, and I took ownership of her.

Since then, I have sailed the boat a lot, and have made many upgrades and improvements to ready her for the true ocean.  I also re-named her  "TERN".  I just couldn't accept having  a boat named for an insect out on the ocean.  Usually, when you see insects on the ocean, they are like shipwrecked sailors; lost and barely surviving.  A creature like a tern felt much more appropriate-light, buoyant and very much at home on the sea.

The designer, Laurent Giles, is renowned for his beautiful and distinct designs, and the story of how the design came to be is na interesting one.  Essentially, he was hired to help an ambitious (and brave) small-boat sailor, Patrick Ellam, prove a controversial point;  that it is possible to sail offshore in small, well designed craft, and that in some cases, they can be more safe and seaworthy than larger, heavier vessels.  Laurent Giles listened to what Patrick's requirements and ideas were, and came up with "Sopranino".  Sopranino was then sailed often and hard by Patrick and anyone else he could find to be crew.  Eventually, to prove his point, he decided to sail her across the Atlantic, and did so with Colin Maude in 1951.  They co-authored a book about their trip--"Sopranino".

Minim--sistership to Sopranino

From feedback on the design after their 10,000 mile voyage, some minor yet significant changes were made resulting in the Columbia-Class, which is what Laurent designed for John Guzzwell's requirments in yacht:  affordable (small), easy to built (small, and simply-designed), able to carry enough stores for ocean crossings (lot's of volume in the ends), no engine (able, nimble boat).  She became Trekka, and John sailed her around the world, writing a book about it.  The boat changed hands a few times and was sailed around the world again.

John Guzzwell's Trekka