A
Anonymous
Guest
Verla and I had an “interesting” run yesterday between Sequim and Port Townsend and back. It was interesting because it involved the actual use of a number of system features which I thought I had finally begun to understand, and it involved navigation under less than ideal circumstances.
Leaving Sequim Bay we promptly slid underneath a low, thin layer of clouds which obscured the tops of the adjoining bluffs and most of Protection Island. Harking back to my flying days I focused on the instruments and trying to hold closely to my route on the chart-plotter, trying to limit course deviations to less than 50 feet either side of the course line.
I use the electronic compass feature which permits the setting of a heading and then displays incremental deviations of 2.5 degrees either side of the set heading. The data bar on the plotter is set up vertically with Heading info (from the e-compass) at the top followed by Course Deviation (in feet or fractions of a nautical mile) and a Steer arrow which points either right or left toward the course line. Below that are Course over the Ground/Speed over the Ground (derived from the GPS), Speed (from the paddle-wheel speedometer attached to the depth sounder), and finally Depth. The rest of the screen is devoted to the chart which results in a picture which is almost square. The boat symbol is positioned 1/3 of the way up from the bottom of the chart so that the bulk of what we “see” on the chart lies ahead of us. The radar returns are displayed superimposed on the chart so I “see” other vessels or large floating obstructions (buoys, etc.) as objects on the chart, and the chart display is set to what Raymarine calls Relative Motion where the boat symbol remains stationary on the screen and the chart scrolls along beneath the “boat”. I’ve chosen to have only single “window” displays since our plotter is only an 8” model and I prefer the largest possible chart image.
The cloud bases began lowering as we crossed the mouth of Discover Bay, and by the time we neared McCurdy Point the shoreline was totally obscured. Approaching Point Wilson and the entrance to Admiralty Inlet we found ourselves truly fogbound so I turned on the lights and the foghorn and slowed to about 8 knots. Fortunately we were just slightly past high tide, so the usual rips were not particularly noticeable; however, a “1 or 2 foot” swell was making itself felt, and holding a heading was becoming more challenging. I settled for greater course line deviation to the seaward side as we slipped by Point Wilson, the lighthouse and the breakers just barely discernible fifty yards off to starboard.
Approaching Point Hudson the radar began to pay serious dividends there being considerable vessel traffic. Most appeared to be going no faster than we were; and, fortunately, as we rounded Point Hudson the fog thinned noticeably and the visibility improved to better than a mile along the Port Townsend waterfront.
After breakfast and a little shopping in PT the clouds had totally pulled back to about ¼ mile offshore. The layer was thin – we could see quite clearly the top of a crane over on Marrowstone Island sticking up in the blue. Halfway back from Point Hudson to Point Wilson the fog thickened, and we were back “in the soup”.
We saw no more shoreline until we slipped alongside Travis Spit at the entry to Sequim Bay. Even then we were still obliged to track the course-line from waypoint to waypoint until the entrance to John Wayne Marina appeared out of the murk.
In toto the trip involved about 17 nautical miles strictly by reference to the instruments. The closest approach to another vessel was an estimated 1/8 mile. Since we were going opposite directions, I had turned on the range circles and moved slightly to the offside of my course line; and at about ¼ mile I gave a blast on our boat horn. Except for the radar image and the wake we crossed, there were no indications of the presence of another vessel.
Safe at home we declared that a worthwhile experience accomplished under a modest degree of control. The most disconcerting facet of the exercise is that we overheard a call by a woman boater out of Port Townsend who had blundered into the fog and was requesting some undefined form of assistance from Port Angeles Coast Guard. We heard her ask the CG if she ought to follow what she thought was the ferry although she promptly withdrew that idea when she realized that the large vessel she thought was the ferry appeared to be otherwise.
I was contemplating my options for possibly rendering assistance when a fish boat went blasting past us in the murk, and I was reminded that I had plenty to keep me busy at the time.
However, in retrospect I think I probably ought to have stopped right where we were, asked the CG to repeat the GPS coordinates which she had given them, and tried myself to place a waypoint at those coordinates. It’s possible that she was one of the radar returns I was currently seeing on the screen. If so, the waypoint and one of the radar returns would have coincided. Then I could, in theory of course, have used goto that waypoint, made visual and radio contact, and led her back (via the rest of my route) to Port Townsend.
Back home I spent some time with the book and the chart-plotter working on such a procedure. There’s always something new to learn or think about.
Paul Priest
J.C.Lately
Sequim
Leaving Sequim Bay we promptly slid underneath a low, thin layer of clouds which obscured the tops of the adjoining bluffs and most of Protection Island. Harking back to my flying days I focused on the instruments and trying to hold closely to my route on the chart-plotter, trying to limit course deviations to less than 50 feet either side of the course line.
I use the electronic compass feature which permits the setting of a heading and then displays incremental deviations of 2.5 degrees either side of the set heading. The data bar on the plotter is set up vertically with Heading info (from the e-compass) at the top followed by Course Deviation (in feet or fractions of a nautical mile) and a Steer arrow which points either right or left toward the course line. Below that are Course over the Ground/Speed over the Ground (derived from the GPS), Speed (from the paddle-wheel speedometer attached to the depth sounder), and finally Depth. The rest of the screen is devoted to the chart which results in a picture which is almost square. The boat symbol is positioned 1/3 of the way up from the bottom of the chart so that the bulk of what we “see” on the chart lies ahead of us. The radar returns are displayed superimposed on the chart so I “see” other vessels or large floating obstructions (buoys, etc.) as objects on the chart, and the chart display is set to what Raymarine calls Relative Motion where the boat symbol remains stationary on the screen and the chart scrolls along beneath the “boat”. I’ve chosen to have only single “window” displays since our plotter is only an 8” model and I prefer the largest possible chart image.
The cloud bases began lowering as we crossed the mouth of Discover Bay, and by the time we neared McCurdy Point the shoreline was totally obscured. Approaching Point Wilson and the entrance to Admiralty Inlet we found ourselves truly fogbound so I turned on the lights and the foghorn and slowed to about 8 knots. Fortunately we were just slightly past high tide, so the usual rips were not particularly noticeable; however, a “1 or 2 foot” swell was making itself felt, and holding a heading was becoming more challenging. I settled for greater course line deviation to the seaward side as we slipped by Point Wilson, the lighthouse and the breakers just barely discernible fifty yards off to starboard.
Approaching Point Hudson the radar began to pay serious dividends there being considerable vessel traffic. Most appeared to be going no faster than we were; and, fortunately, as we rounded Point Hudson the fog thinned noticeably and the visibility improved to better than a mile along the Port Townsend waterfront.
After breakfast and a little shopping in PT the clouds had totally pulled back to about ¼ mile offshore. The layer was thin – we could see quite clearly the top of a crane over on Marrowstone Island sticking up in the blue. Halfway back from Point Hudson to Point Wilson the fog thickened, and we were back “in the soup”.
We saw no more shoreline until we slipped alongside Travis Spit at the entry to Sequim Bay. Even then we were still obliged to track the course-line from waypoint to waypoint until the entrance to John Wayne Marina appeared out of the murk.
In toto the trip involved about 17 nautical miles strictly by reference to the instruments. The closest approach to another vessel was an estimated 1/8 mile. Since we were going opposite directions, I had turned on the range circles and moved slightly to the offside of my course line; and at about ¼ mile I gave a blast on our boat horn. Except for the radar image and the wake we crossed, there were no indications of the presence of another vessel.
Safe at home we declared that a worthwhile experience accomplished under a modest degree of control. The most disconcerting facet of the exercise is that we overheard a call by a woman boater out of Port Townsend who had blundered into the fog and was requesting some undefined form of assistance from Port Angeles Coast Guard. We heard her ask the CG if she ought to follow what she thought was the ferry although she promptly withdrew that idea when she realized that the large vessel she thought was the ferry appeared to be otherwise.
I was contemplating my options for possibly rendering assistance when a fish boat went blasting past us in the murk, and I was reminded that I had plenty to keep me busy at the time.
However, in retrospect I think I probably ought to have stopped right where we were, asked the CG to repeat the GPS coordinates which she had given them, and tried myself to place a waypoint at those coordinates. It’s possible that she was one of the radar returns I was currently seeing on the screen. If so, the waypoint and one of the radar returns would have coincided. Then I could, in theory of course, have used goto that waypoint, made visual and radio contact, and led her back (via the rest of my route) to Port Townsend.
Back home I spent some time with the book and the chart-plotter working on such a procedure. There’s always something new to learn or think about.
Paul Priest
J.C.Lately
Sequim