With the power back on and somebody lined up to medicate our diabetic
cat, we ventured out for an overnight on the boat.

Saturday was a fairly dark, "Ansel Adams" day. Smoke grey sky and
water, charcoal and granite colored islands, and fresh frosty white
snow on the jagged crags of the Olympics. The whole scene could have
been shot with black and white film. After the horrendous storm of a
few days ago, the barometer had bounced back to one of the highest
readings we ever see in these parts. The water was smooth as a satin
sheet, and there were almost no other boats out and about.

After squirting out through the big locks behind a commercial crabber,
we made a couple of cell phone calls to see where we could find some
shorepower. The forecast was for temperatures in the mid 20's to low
30's, and we wanted to keep the battery charging while the Webasto kept
the boat warm and toasty. The Port of Poulbo answered the phone, and
said they had power to the marina.

There were a grand total of four transient boats at the Poulsbo dock,
(guest moorage capacity probably 200) and by weird coincidence one of
the guys who works on the magazine happened to be there as well. We
filed through all of the Scandinavian shops in Poulsbo (decorated with
a Nordic Christmas theme), and dined at one of our favorite Italian
restaurants very near the head of the Poulsbo dock.

Temperatures got so cold that the layer of fresh water runoff on the
top of Liberty Bay froze over!
The ice was very thin, perhaps 3/16 of an inch. We awoke in a bright,
shining winter wonderland, with cobalt blue skies almost totally devoid
of clouds.

By 11 AM this morning, the bay still hadn't thawed out. A sailboat left
the marina, "crunching" through the ice at dead slow. We followed in
their wake, but with our wider beam we were doing some crunching as
well. (Fortunately, I've got expendable bottom paint up to just over
the waterline so no ice chunks got a chance to scrape the boot stripe
or the main portion of the hull).

The transucer of my depth sounder was readin a temperature of just
38-degrees, about 2 feet below the waterline. Normal temperature for
our sal****er is about 10-15 degrees higher than that.

So it was a wonderful weekend to go boating. If you don't mind a layer
of ice on the superstructure, frost so thick on the docks that you left
footprints as if it had been snowing, and cuddling under an extra quilt
while the diesel furnace churned along to create an oasis of creature
comfort in a relatively deserted and frozen environment it was a neat
experience.

The 99% of boaters who didn't venture out this weekend missed a reat
treat.

By the way, an excellent reason to own a boat: When the power goes out
for several days, as it has been for many of the folks in the area, a
boat is going to normally be a lot more liveable and comfortable
environment than a house with no juice.

On 17 Dec 2006 22:05:48 -0800, "Chuck Gould"
wrote:

Thanks for writing down that experience.
Neat.

--Vic

With the power back on and somebody lined up to medicate our diabetic
cat, we ventured out for an overnight on the boat.

Saturday was a fairly dark, "Ansel Adams" day. Smoke grey sky and
water, charcoal and granite colored islands, and fresh frosty white
snow on the jagged crags of the Olympics. The whole scene could have
been shot with black and white film. After the horrendous storm of a
few days ago, the barometer had bounced back to one of the highest
readings we ever see in these parts. The water was smooth as a satin
sheet, and there were almost no other boats out and about.

After squirting out through the big locks behind a commercial crabber,
we made a couple of cell phone calls to see where we could find some
shorepower. The forecast was for temperatures in the mid 20's to low
30's, and we wanted to keep the battery charging while the Webasto kept
the boat warm and toasty. The Port of Poulbo answered the phone, and
said they had power to the marina.

There were a grand total of four transient boats at the Poulsbo dock,
(guest moorage capacity probably 200) and by weird coincidence one of
the guys who works on the magazine happened to be there as well. We
filed through all of the Scandinavian shops in Poulsbo (decorated with
a Nordic Christmas theme), and dined at one of our favorite Italian
restaurants very near the head of the Poulsbo dock.

Temperatures got so cold that the layer of fresh water runoff on the
top of Liberty Bay froze over!
The ice was very thin, perhaps 3/16 of an inch. We awoke in a bright,
shining winter wonderland, with cobalt blue skies almost totally devoid
of clouds.

By 11 AM this morning, the bay still hadn't thawed out. A sailboat left
the marina, "crunching" through the ice at dead slow. We followed in
their wake, but with our wider beam we were doing some crunching as
well. (Fortunately, I've got expendable bottom paint up to just over
the waterline so no ice chunks got a chance to scrape the boot stripe
or the main portion of the hull).

The transucer of my depth sounder was readin a temperature of just
38-degrees, about 2 feet below the waterline. Normal temperature for
our sal****er is about 10-15 degrees higher than that.

So it was a wonderful weekend to go boating. If you don't mind a layer
of ice on the superstructure, frost so thick on the docks that you left
footprints as if it had been snowing, and cuddling under an extra quilt
while the diesel furnace churned along to create an oasis of creature
comfort in a relatively deserted and frozen environment it was a neat
experience.

The 99% of boaters who didn't venture out this weekend missed a reat
treat.

By the way, an excellent reason to own a boat: When the power goes out
for several days, as it has been for many of the folks in the area, a
boat is going to normally be a lot more liveable and comfortable
environment than a house with no juice.