wind and white caps

there were many times when the ramona had to tie up and wait for wind.
this takes time out of a 6 month season that cannot be easily recovered.
always watching the wind, we also watch the river turn ever so gradually into the wind.
air and current struggle against each other as they line up and push the other.
rolling swells crowned by curling spraying whitecaps.

this story is about one of those times at a place called fox point on the yukon, 25 miles above grayling.
 if one gets caught in the point's wind stretch, there is only one place to hide.

fox point makes every vessel big or small go out around a shallow gravel point.
get around that ??
the only shelter will be in a slough at the ridge 2 m. below.
the waves at fox point will grow big white caps with much larger ones at  the hiding hole. in a west wind it will get much worse before it gets better.

gotten this far? then there is no choice.
you have to run for the hiding hole if you've rounded  fox point,
and gotten caught in the swells..
turn around?   maybe above, but here no.

cannot invite danger...sideways to wind and wave.
a commitment you are not likely to forget for a lifetime.
hiding hole....here we come!
the yukon forgives many mistakes, but not all.
a good pilot can  fight the wind,
but what does an average pilot do?
first anticipate danger, don't take chances,
caught in the wind?? there are only 2 simple choices, push ahead to safety or try to turn against the wind, each option loaded with complex consequences.
in this case having rounded fox point, we must push ahead to safety.  the turn around decision time is long gone.
pushing on........

knowing in advance what's around the bend
and how the river behaves in wind is a very steep learning curve,
clearly a home court advantage.
our store boat family learned these things together.
i don't recall anyone being scared or excited.

'cept for mom, she could get very nervous in a heavy roll.
scared but no panic. but if dad were to suddenly show fear. then it's time for all to be very concerned.
but he never did, and we always made it.

barge rolling and rippling we always got through to tie up in good spots.
make a fire.......let those leaves wave and show their bellies.
wait for change.

turn here? or run for the hiding hole?
push ahead of course........
wouldn't ya know? it not that simple.
if you know what's ahead.
then you also know...

if we can make this crossing, it might be good for a long ways again.
there's always a push to keeping going if we can.
if the waves are only rolling and there are no white caps,

it's not hard to work the river, provided you do nothing stupid.
soon as white caps form, the barge begins pounding,
a wave can be seen going through the entire length of a barge.
waves like sideways sledge hammers on the bow cause a ripple throughout, the barge can pound and move.
knocking things off their place. tug and store shelves would be a mess after a rough stretch.
everything on a deck can "walk".
have to tie down the freezer, generator, and anything else you don't want walking overboard.

mom could not handle the wind.  made her very nervous.
her fear came not from the wind.
but from seeing before what weight and momentum can do with even the slowest of speeds.
break loose from your barge in a rough spot and you might have to let it go for a moment.
catch it later, and count on the sweepers and wind to hold it gently somewhere below. 

everything happens very fast when something goes wrong.
can't blink.  always anticipating danger, make sure the feet are free to move.
eyes watching every line or chain for strain.

it's important to stay out of way of a cable under stress,
when cable breaks it whips and snaps like a rubber band.
ruin your day big time. not that your day was already on the best ever list,
hopping around a rolling river tug.  but you get my drift. so to speak.

mom knew these things and would nervously come into the wheel house asking, "are we going to tie up?"  she might not know where the next hiding hole was, or where the river changes direction and the wind would no longer be a problem.

she just wanted to stop.
but dad would reassure her,
just a little ways more and it'll get good.
or.... there's a nice calm slough just up ahead where we can wait.

just little ways... it's ok mom... 

she'd go lay down.

on several occasions times we kept going cause we knew it would be safe soon. but most times, we stopped and waited for the wind to die down.  this story is about stopping and waiting for the wind to slack.

rounding fox point rolling with the yukon swells,
i'm keeping out away from the gravel point just a bit, but as close as i can get in the calm water.
there always seems to be a calm in a clear silver ribbon along the shore,  just wide enough for one barge. it's the best place to be in wind.
can't be too close..it's shallow, but only swells here, no bolders,snags, or other danger.  just a rolling calm haven.  follow the silver ribbon.

riding the channel edge...  making the run.
time to steer against the wind and point the barge straight for the mouth of the slough 2 miles down.
one more bad spot at the hiding hole where the river lines up with the wind.
much worst before better.

landing is a problem, there are too many big waves to turn around. so i will use the wind and motor to tie up backwards in the mouth of a slough where we can watch the yukon rock and roll.

pushing hard and as close as we dare get to the gravel beach with the largest stump around, swing bow toward river. parallel to the beach?
full reverse. wind might hold tug from swinging back out.
using the little boat, hold the stern in. then put the outfit where you want it.  pushing the tug stern with a small skiff in such conditions is a cold wet job, dad might have me do that while he easily and quickly maneuvered.
voila.  it's done..tie her up, the coffee is on.

as a boy with my little sister ramona, I'd immediately beging to make a beach fire,
close to a sitting log and the calm water made by the tug.

i had a golden lab, called Ling, i've no clue why ling. he just came that way.
everyone glad to be out of the waves and happy to be exploring this yukon gravel beach.
ling walking in the water then successfully shaking curly fur near mona and i, gathering wood.

i always made a big fire for a wind camp. used a whole stump if i could.  it would burn all evening.  dinner on board. then depending on the bugs, spend an evening with a fire.

dad would look at the leaves and say, "it'll last 3 days, or..... not long".  I'd look at the willow leaves, see their bellys, memorize what it's doing, then begin counting the days till the wind changed.

never as accurate as dad, but  now have a pretty good idea of how leaves and wind go together.

it's the native way of knowing.
as plain as the moose track across the beach.
is it a cow or bull?  dad knew, then showed me how to see a story... not just a track in the mud..

dad could do anything it seemed to me as a boy. my open admiration only?
i don't think so... dad and mom could do anything.
just by.....setting out to do it.
typical of that generation.very few things were impossible.
amazing people my parents and their generation....if i could be half the man my father was, i'd be happy.

and that's how we grew up. knowing we'd be ok...come wind or high water.
if the bisness went bad....we are still ok, afterall we had fresh moose tracks just beside our camp.

it's only now i realize that the heroes i found along that yukon river beach had doubts at times just like you and me.  they were human.  imperfect by our very nature.
that's what we'd talk about around that fire.
sitting on a log. dad contemplating the business, mom wondering if she should go back in and which way would be the easiest.

mona and i feeding that fire.
dad he'd be looking at the ramona, rocking there in it's own eddy. and talk about new ideas he'd like to try.  not major changes, just somehow making life better aboard a boat.
more vents to be cut for engine heat when the fall chill brings it's own brand of wind.
or maybe just changing a line.
dad sitting, poking the fire, thinking about it.....says, "yep! gonna have to build a new sounding boat next spring.  that one is getting pretty beat up."
yes dad i;d always say,  and then he always continue with much excitement,
but this time!  let's try this or that. 
we never did something the same way we did it before.

didn't know it then,but
that was one of the most important things in my life.
to not get into a rut. to learn new things and ways.

not only is this a good spot to tie up,
but can watch the yukon from here.  those white caps looking pretty big out there.
when they get small it's an illusion. set out too early and one is likely to be caught in some of the largest waves they've ever seen. maybe.  but the fire and the wind does die down and everyone is happy to be  underway again.

as it calms, the river invites you back. do not rush these things.  the rock bluff below will still be rough.

when the wind blows for three days.
time for chicken hunting on an early morning, fall is best,
heading out with my .22 rifle, bending down to see the shoreline and chicken silhouette.
22 is all i needed, safe.  out looking for trouble and more firewood.