Red Rock Rendezvous - Lake Powell 2009

Every year around the end of September or beginning of October, depending on the phase of the moon, we join a gang of fellow boating misfits on the shores of spectacular Lake Powell on the Utah/Arizona border for the annual Lake Powell Messabout. Those who can wrangle enough time away from work and commitments set sail at the end of the messabout for a week or so of cruising, an event known as the Kokopelli Cruise. They are commonly known as the Kokonauts. This year the messabout was held for the first time near the Hite ramp, at the far north on the lake, rather than the usual spot at Stanton Creek on Bullfrog Basin. We weren't able to join the cruise, but we did enjoy a pleasant Friday to Sunday stay at the messabout.

Friends came from all corners of Utah as well as Arizona, California, Texas (including our dear friends Chuck and Sandra Leinweber of Duckworks, along with their son Joe) and even Australia, with boat designer Michael Storer including us in his US tour. Chris Ostlind and his wife Lorrie attended the messabout this year. My regret was that we didn't have a few hours of fresh breeze so they could join me for a sail.

The Hatches in the XCR and friend Michael with his Adventure Island spent Saturday on a day cruise to the canyons to the south of Hite. We started and ended with light breezes, but spent most of the day motoring on glass-smooth water.

Chuck Lienweber performs last minute repairs to a Toto in
preparation for the Kokopelli Cruise

Michael Storer stows his gear with the brutal
finesse of a seasoned cruiser

Martin Adams (left) preps his RebelCat with a hand from
Randy Swedlund

We set sail around 10am with just enough breeze to get our hopes up but we were motoring within an hour. The scenery was magnificent and we were pretty much alone, apart from the occasional motorboat whizzing by in search of bass fishing spots. We started the day with everyone in the cockpit, but the boys soon became bored and ventured out onto the akas and amas.

Michael pedals past soaring sandstone cliffs

Evan and Elliot alternatively sat, dangled and lay on the outriggers. Lily brought up the topic of trampolines and we started brainstorming possible solutions.

This little cove turned out to be an ideal spot...

...for skipping stones...

...swimming...

...and lunch.

Eventually we reached a small bay where the lake splits into four channels: the main channel heading south, Farley and White Canyons to the west and Trachyte Canyon to the east. Trachyte seemed like the most interesting and most likely to be navigated in time to get us back before dark.

Michael enjoys a well-earned tow into Trachyte Canyon

On the way out of Trachyte Canyon (I just looked up Trachyte. I was imagining some kind of fossilized Cambrian monstrosity but t's actually a volcanic rock composed primarily of feldspar), we found another idyllic spot for some shore leave.

On the trip back to Hite we moved close to the western cliff to take advantage of the late-day shade. In places, the massive wall seemed to be composed of the cyclopian stone blocks and pillars of some unremembered ancient civilization. My imagination took me back the the Sinbad movies that were my childhood mainstay. The hair on my neck stood up as I imagined the grimacing face of Harryhausen's Cyclops suddenly appearing over the cliff rim. If such a thing could really be found, this would be the place.
We finished packing up Sunday just as the last of the Kokonauts were launching. The Gales were barely able to get their boat in the water between engine stalls and backfires. One last view as we drove out showed Martin's catamaran catching the beginnings of the afternoon breeze. Little would anyone have guessed that 36 hours from now the cruisers would be battling hurricane winds and dust storms.

Martin sails off in the calm before the storm

Where the Mountains Meet the Sky – Jackson Lake 2009

Thanks to Michael Jackson for XCR sailing photos

Setting sail

Jackson Lake is large; about 18 miles end-to-end, and it is amazingly clean and untouched by the world, especially considering that half the world has rolled right past it on their way to Yellowstone National Park. It sits at the base of the spectacular Teton mountain range about midway between Jackson Hole Wyoming and Yellowstone. Apart from the three developed campgrounds on the eastern shore, camping is restricted to a handful of primitive permit-only campsites. It’s the ultimate leave-no-trace environment. You’re even required to pack out human waste. Our goal was to cover as much of the lake as possible in three days, so we had planned a big loop that would start and end at the Colter Bay marina, tour some of the islands, plunge deep into the farthest reaches of Moran Bay, and explore the entire remote western shore. Friend and colleague Michael Jackson and I had been planning this trip even before he was a boat owner. Lily decided to join us since the boys were out of the picture for three days of pulling handcarts along the pioneer trail.

Dwarfed by majestic Moran

Michael under pedal power

We had phoned for camping permits months in advance of our three day August sojourn, only to discover that all of the primitive camping permits for the year had been snatched up before the end of February. Undaunted, Michael decided to head out a day early to be on hand when the permit office opened Monday morning, in hopes of jumping a claim. It turned out that he was able to poach reservations for the two campsites that we were most hoping to visit: Elk Island, roughly in the middle of the lake, and Warm Springs in the far north.

Lily and I began the five-hour drive at 5:00am Monday morning, to ensure a full day on the lake. Michael had spent the night in the Colter Bay campground and had already snagged our permits by the time we arrived. We hit the water with ideal weather, which is always a relief, since the season is so short at this altitude. It starts in June and ends in August, with a merciless mosquito feeding frenzy right in the middle. We knew all too well how quickly the weather could turn on us. The forecast showed a chance of overnight snow. Lily and I loaded all of our gear and a few of Michael’s things into the XCR. I’m always amazed that a few days of camping requires as much stuff as a few weeks. Michael’s boat is a bright red Hobie Adventure Island. It’s a terrific little boat but a bit short on stowage space, so he makes good use homemade trampolines loaded with drybags.

Motoring away from Elk Island

En route to Moran Bay

With Lily on Moran Bay

The five-mile sail to Elk Island was delightful. We arrived to find a powerboat in our spot, with a half dozen twenty-somethings hoola-hooping (that's right, hoola-hooping) on the beach. Michael said, “You wouldn't happen to know if you have a permit for this campsite, because I’m pretty sure I do.” They graciously surrendered the campsite and eventually moved on. We set up camp and stowed our food in the bear boxes that are provided at all of the primitive campsites. We had decided to spend at least one night on an island so we could be certain of a night’s sleep without being gnawed on by bears. Of course it turned out that Elk Island was where we had our only bear sighting. Lily and I missed it but Michael came back from a hike just in time to catch a black bear rummaging around camp. It sauntered off, leaving no trace except for Michael’s mysteriously vanished bag of snacks.

Dawn brought bright blue skies and a glass-smooth lake. We broke camp and cast off for Moran Bay under motor and pedal. Once we had rounded the island and gained open water the wind picked up and we cruised leisurely into Moran Bay, gliding silently past Little Grassy Island. Looking up at Mount Moran from this vantage point was an almost overwhelming task. The sheer grandeur of it evoked an emotion that I have no name for. Not just awe, or insignificance, although there were large helpings of those, but something akin to terror. A sort of wonderful terror.

We explored the mouth of the river at the deepest point of the bay and then set sail again on the first leg of the long sail north to Warm Springs. After an hour or so of beating out of the bay we pulled up onto a rocky spit and stopped for lunch. Lily sliced tomatoes for sandwiches and Michael heated water for a backpack meal while a couple of deer nudged close, unalarmed and curious. We saw deer everywhere we stopped and they were always more curious than afraid. Each campsite seemed to have a friendly deer assigned to it by the Parks Service. As we ate we surveyed the wilderness shorelines and thanked whoever had been wise enough to make this place a national park, imagining what it might have looked like crowded with condos and casinos.

A change in the weather

Under reefed canvas

The wild West Shore

As we packed up lunch the wind shifted and strengthened. I walked the boat around the spit to take advantage of the new wind direction. Whitecaps were forming, so we set out under reefed sails and hugged the shore for a while. Reefed against gusts, with the waves starting to build around us, we were dry and comfortable. Lily, who is usually not very comfortable on the water and is especially uneasy aboard a heeled monohull, sat in the forward seat of the cockpit, dry and comfortable, reading a book. The wind shifted, gusted, settled and then gusted some more. Clouds came and went. We stayed about a half mile offshore averaging five to eight miles per hour. Michael, our wingman, pulled alongside close enough for conversation. “Does it get any better than this?” he asked. Here we were skimming across the crystal water in the most beautiful place on earth with everything we needed for the good life stowed on our little ships. The XCR was finally doing what it had been designed for. Hugh Horton once compared canoe sailing to a magic carpet ride and that was exactly what we were experiencing.

Here's a couple of minutes of video that Michael shot along the way:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HKuN50V5iRg

As we glided along the western shore, with the incomprehensibly gargantuan peaks towering over us, it was almost impossible to stay in the real world. I found myself keeping a subconscious eye out for Bolrogs and Nasgul. Later, as we huddled around the campfire at Warm Springs, the smoldering glow of the long-gone sun added a volcanic menace to the silhouetted mountains. Michael commented about feeling uncomfortable so close to Mordor.

A home at Warm Springs

Warm Springs beach

Packing up for the final leg


A cozy beach

Lily and Michael - and food

The Warm Springs campsite was in a grassy meadow atop a bluff, with a steep hike up from the rocky beach. We arrived under clear skies and calm air, but an abrupt weather change loomed just behind the hills. We never actually found the springs that gave the place it its name so Lily and I found a secluded spot for a shivering bath in the icy water. As the sun set we huddled around the fire, watching lighting flash in the south. It crawled slowly closer until a sudden blast of cold air and rain brought a quick end to dinner and sent us scattering for our tents.

The next morning we bundled up for the long beat back toward Colter Bay. The rain was gone but it was cloudy and cool. The wind was coming from the wrong direction, but it was steady and we had a glorious sail across open water under threatening skies. We made several long tacks across the lake, coming within a stone’s throw of the eastern shore and then falling back into open water. We finally ducked behind a small island for lunch on an idyllic gravel beach. The wind died as we polished off the last of the lunch meat. The last few miles were made under motor and pedal with some ghosting on occasional zephyrs.

It was all smiles as pulled up to the Colter Bay ramp. I said to Michael, “you know what George W. would be saying right now don’t you?”

He nodded, “Mission accomplished!”

Making for home under threatening skies (can you spot the boat? Click to enlarge)

Small Trimarans Website

Joe Farinaccio, authour of Small Trimarans, An Introduction operates a very nice website full of great information about small three-hullers:

http://smalltrimarans.com/blog/

Joe devoted an entire chapter to Chris Ostlind and his designs. He recently interviewed me about my Mill Creek trimaran project and then followed up with the following brief interview about the XCR:

The XCR Trimaran – by Kellan Hatch

What are the standout features/benefits of our new Ostlind XCR tri? For me, the greatest feature of the XCR is its versatility. At its core it’s an expedition canoe.

Remove the outriggers and sail rigs and you have a very solid, high capacity cruising canoe that is light enough to car top. Leave the outriggers in their trailer configuration (7 ½ feet wide) and step one sail rig in the central mast step and you have a quick-to-launch daysailer, or leave the sail off entirely and you have a handy little motor boat that is easily driven with a 2ph motor.

The addition of aka extension tubes and the second sail rig give you the whole XCR package. I just finished adding snap buttons to the aka extensions and Virus-style ama attachment hardware, which makes it very quick and simple to change the aka configuration. Another excellent feature of the XCR is that it is very light and strong, especially if built the way Chris built mine, with strategic use of carbon fiber cloth and tubing.

Two men can pick up and carry the fully rigged boat. It moves well under paddle or motor and the kick-up rudder and leeboard allow you to sail it right up onto the beach.

How does this small tri perform? I’m still tweaking and tuning, but so far I’m very pleased. I sail pretty conservatively and I haven’t really pushed it for speed yet. I’m more concerned about stability and I tend to reef early.

This is my first experience with the cat ketch sail plan and I’m still getting a feel for it, but so far I’m delighted with the performance. And it’s a very comfortable ride. On a recent camp-cruise with my wife, Lily I was skimming along about 7-8 mph under reefed sails and she was dry and comfortable, reading a book, in the forward seat.

I’m at a place in my life where I really can’t get away for long periods of cruising, so my near-term plans are pretty conservative. I consider myself lucky to escape for three or four days at a time … a couple of times a year. Fortunately, even though I live in Utah – far from the nearest ocean – I’m not far from some very interesting cruising destinations.

I have visited some of the islands on the Great Salt Lake in the XCR and plan to a lot more there. I just did a 3-day camping cruise on Jackson Lake in Wyoming, which I consider one of the most beautiful places on earth. In a couple of weeks I’ll be spending a few days on Lake Powell in Southern Utah, which is another spectacular destination.

The other places that I have in mind for XCR cruising, assuming some more leisure time, are the San Juan Islands, the Sea of Cortez and the Kokopelli Cruise on Lake Powell. Other some-day plans include the Texas 200 (I did it last year in an inflatable trimaran and would love to repeat it with the XCR) and possibly the WaterTribe Everglades Challenge. I also fantasize about circumnavigating the Manicougan Crater in Quebec, which is a gigantic ring of water about 160 miles around.

Leeboard

All along I have been using a canoe leeboard that I borrowed from Chris. I finally got around to carving a larger board, more suited to the sail area of the XCR. I also needed to beef up the bracket where the leeboard mounts to the leeboard thwart. The wooden portion of the bracket shattered while I was sailing in heavy wind on Lake Powell. For quite a while I held it all together with a big C-Clamp, but I finally got around to having a stronger bracket fabricated from 1/4-inch aluminum plate.

The leeboard is carved to a NACA 009 symmetrical airfoil shape using a belt sander and cardboard template.

Cockpit Cover

By the summer of 2009 I was finished with trying to keep the cockpit covered with polytarps. Lily and I designed a cockpit cover. I laminated curved battens, so water would slough off and Lily sewed the cover from Sunbrella, with nylon webbing and snap hardware to cinch it up around the cockpit rim.

text

Trailering

Next to the ama and aka setup, the other major time waster at the ramp was the elaborate system of trailer tiedowns. The cure was to add a bow eye to the boat and three rollers to the trailer. This arrangement keeps the XCR secure and stable enough that only two cam straps are required, one on each aft aka.

Motor Mount

My auxiliary power for the XCR comes in the form of a Honda 2HP 4-stroke motor. I designed a motor mount that I plan, at some point, to have fabricated from aluminum. In the meantime I have built one from heavy oak. My first instillation proved to be too far forward on the hull. It was very efficient at scooping waves right into my lap. I moved it aft about 16 inches, which proved to be ideal.

Here you see my father, Gwendon (how's that for a Viking name) ready for quick motoring trip on Willard Bay. The XCR works just fine as a light motor skiff, right off the trailer.

Akas & Amas

The original aka and ama hardware worked fine but took a LOT of time to set up and break down. The ama attachments required getting hands and tools inside amas through inspecition ports. The aka tubes and expensions were assembled in a similar way.

Chris had intended snap buttons for the aka tubes. These are similar to the type used in tent poles, but much larger. I wasn't able to find stainless buttons large enough for the aka tubes, but I did manage to find some that weren't stainless. I installed them and color coded the tubes to help with quick installation.

The bigger problem was the aka/ama attachments. I needed a quick way to loosen them, preferably without tools or the need to reach inside the amas through the examination ports. I decided that something like the hardware used on Virus boats would be a good solution. I was able to locate the US Virus dealer, Urs Wunderli, who was very helpful in helping me get four sets to the hardware that Virus uses for their Kataram rowing catamaran. I was able to modify the amas to accomodate the new hardware and have been very pleased with the result.

Magical Mystery Tour

There are few places I know that are as lonely and surrealistic as the Great Salt Lake. My good friend Zan Larsen and I have had a strange relationship with this lake since childhood. When we were teenagers we took a wonderful and mysterious canoe voyage to the dreamland shores of Freemont Island. We celebrated the weird month of October 2007 with a recreation of the trip, this time on the XCR - but without the overnight stay. Among other wonders, we found a cross that had been carved on Castle Rock by Kit Carson.