ronnie's refi t

ALL PHOTOS RONNIE SIMPSON

Almost every boat I've owned has gone through several phases and constantly evolving levels of preparation before I fi nally shoved off and sailed across a big patch of blue water. It's the nature of being a sailor whose dreams are far bigger than his pocketbook. Buying a boat that is 'ready to go' just isn't a realistic option for me. Instead, I require months and sometimes years of money and effort to bring a tired old boat back to her glory days. There's that fi rst phase, where you've traded a wad of your own hard-earned cash in exchange for someone else's single biggest headache. You're on an unfamiliar dock scratching your head, trying to fi gure out how to get the boat home. There's likely an old, rotted halyard here and maybe a broken shroud there. The bottom needs a good scrubbing, and the motor may or may not be functional. But sooner or later you're ready for the maiden voyage, and with just a bit of luck it's a good one. Then there's that fi rst overnighter where you fi x the broken electrical connections to get the running lights working and make sure your ground tackle is all in order. Then that fi rst big solo trip, where you've just

'Quiver' tucked in at Hawaii Yacht Club's 'Aloha' dock in January. Inset above: With some help, I was able to re-rig 'Quiver' in the slip.

installed a new autopilot and had a couple of fun and sometimes humbling sea trials. Then the fi rst ______. You get the idea. My Peterson 34 Quiver has now been through several of those phases, with just a couple more to go. From 'straight outta Craigslist', to getting her dialed in to live on, to cruising the length of the Hawaiian Islands, Quiver and I have come a long way. During the first week of January, I was wrapping up my final winter break from my studies at Hawaii Pacifi c University while simultaneously getting ready to drop the mast back into the boat. After a two-week-long refi t of the rig complete with days of getting dirty in a boatyard, the constant shuffl ing of funds on my smartphone, and countless runs to West Marine and the machine shop, we were fi nally ready to step the mast. As the crane lifted the rig and I watched it go vertical before being set down on the mast step, I got goosebumps. This isn't my fi rst rodeo (far from it), so when I watched that mast go back in the boat, I knew that I had just punched my ticket to go somewhere far away under sail. In this case, my fi rst major bluewater passage with Quiver will be sailing to Tahiti and back this summer on my fi nal summer break before graduation. After I get my diploma next December, it will be time for an extended surf-focused cruise via several Pacifi c atolls and Indonesia, with the potential for a fairly quick circumnavigation. Since relocating from San Francisco Bay to Hawaii on my old Cal 29 Loophole, I ended up selling the Cal and somewhat impulsively replacing it a few months later with the Peterson 34 Seabiscuit, which soon became Quiver. Five days after purchasing the boat, I nearly dismasted while sailing in our fi rst Friday night race when a lower headstay toggle (which lived inside the roller furling drum) failed catastrophically. It was the only rigging component that couldn't be seen from a simple visual rig inspection, and as Murphy would have it, it's the one that was a ticking time bomb. Miraculously, the rig stayed up and we motored back to the dock to begin removing the headstay to fi gure out what

now, and one of my fi rst priorities with Quiver. I had the good-condition furling genoa and decentcondition furling 110 converted to hanks and then purchased a new #4 from Ullman Sails in Newport Beach and a new storm jib from Quantum in Point Richmond. With my slightly undersized asymmetrical cruising kite and prettygood-condition main, my 'quiver' of sails is nearly complete. I plan to add a used J/105 kite to my inventory as a light-air runner, and then Quiver should be well sorted. A recent project was to add a removable inner forestay which will allow me to both prevent rig pump upwind and fl y my storm jib as a staysail when downwind and reaching. New sails are great, but being able to handle those sails efficiently is even better. One by one, I removed various winches near the mast and then moved everything back to the cockpit with Harken deck organizers, running 'Quiver' in after and before stages of her refi t. Right: at the Phoenician Boatyard in Western Oahu in September. rigging and seven Spinlock piece had failed. The broken toggle was units. Quiver is a tiller-steered boat, and rope clutches sourced from Oakland's replaced the next day, but I didn't sail the with a previously-installed tiller pilot, the Ryan Nelson of Rogue Rigging. boat for several weeks, until I had had installation of the Pelagic unit was very The deck layout and placement of a chance to replace all of the standing straightforward. hardware has been a constantly evolving rigging. Quiver and I had gotten off to a Next was to ditch the roller furler and rough start, but after I measured the rigging, called my boys at Rig Works in San Diego, and then fi nally installed switch to hank-on sails; something I've found myself doing on multiple boats Left: The failed headstay toggle that almost brought the whole rig down. Right: A new box of running rigging and deck hardware. all of the new shrouds, Quiver was back in the game. Once the standing rigging was installed, I set out to make the boat more efficient to sail shorthanded, and for cruising in general. Obviously, one of the fi rst projects was to add an autopilot, which I did just before our fi rst interisland passage a year ago. I called up my old friend Brian Boschma — owner of the Bay Area-based Olson 34 Red Sky and founder/creator of Pelagic Autopilots — and purchased one of his

Another sunset at Haleiwa on Oahu's North Shore, one of my favorite places to keep the boat. Transient slips are generally available.

project, but with a new manual crank windlass (to replace the current electric one) and bolt-on bowsprit similar to a Selden unit to be installed soon, I feel we're closing in on our fi nal layout and can paint the deck and put the fi nishing touches on a few things. Renewable energy is always a top priority on my boats, and so, quite fi ttingly, one of the very fi rst things I did after buying the boat was to call Rob Tryon of SouthBound Solar and order a couple of solar panels and a charge controller. With Hawaii's tropical climes and abundance of strong sunshine, just two 55-watt solar panels and two 100 aH batteries allow me to live completely offgrid, including LED lights, fans, stereo, sailing systems and Engel refrigeration. Plugging a boat into land to make it functional defi es every single belief I have about sailing, and so as soon as the solar panels were installed, I removed anything and everything related to shorepower charging and ditched the huge yellow cord. A liberating fi rst project on Quiver, and very much to our ethos; we're going places together, let's not get too comfortable being tied to a dock. Overnight passages and cloudy conditions have proven our Achilles' heel however, and I have decided that I will add a small wind generator before sailing to Tahiti.

With the setup of the boat constantly evolving, I sailed Quiver to fi ve different islands in Hawaii last year, cruising the length of the chain from Kauai to Kona. With a big double-spreader rig, solid-built quality and exactly 50% of her weight in the form of a deep, bolted-on lead fi n keel, the Peterson 34 has been a great boat to take offshore and upwind across Hawaiian channels, usually laying her next destination on just one long port tack. A powerful, tiller-steered late '70s IOR racer/cruiser, the boat — while

At sea, 'Quiver' will primarily be steered by the Navik windvane "Armel le Cleac'h."

New B&G electronics and instruments, as well as a matching Ritchie bulkhead compass.

bought impulsively — has proven to be exactly what I wanted in my next cruising boat. Seven knots is a common cruising speed, and the bumpier it gets, the more Quiver begins to shine. When upwind conditions aren't something to be feared, a whole new freedom to cruise can occur. The entire goal of buying Quiver was to take my constantly evolving 'quiver' of surfboards and SUPs (stand-up paddle boards) to remote islands to look for good surf, and I look forward to fi nding a locale even better than here. Hawaii is a surf mecca, and from a perspective of combining sailing and surfi ng, it can hardly be beat. On Kauai, Oahu, Molokai, Maui, Lanai and even the Big Island of Hawaii (so . . . pretty much every island), it is entirely conceivable to anchor or moor the boat and either paddle right into the surf or go surf right in front of the harbor. On my home island of Oahu alone, you can anchor or moor in one of four major harbors — Ala Wai Harbor, Kewalo Basin, Pokai Bay/ Waianae and Haleiwa — and score amazing surf, given the proper conditions, of course. While many downplay cruising in Hawaii [see December's Letters] I still find it to be an amazing place and consider myself very lucky to live here. There are certainly plenty of jobs left on the list before setting sail for Tahiti in May, but as I've learned repeatedly in life, the journey is just as beautiful as the destination. Aloha from Hawaii — wishing Latitude readers a happy and healthy 2018, and looking forward to meeting some West Coast cruisers after the Pacifi c Puddle Jump this (northern hemisphere) summer. — ronnie simpson

One of 'Quiver's' priorities is to carry the maximum amount of SUPs and surfboards, including two in the main salon.