Airex Birdwatcher Article Final revisions
Aeneas revised his article, and I've updated the website to reflect
the changes. The final article is below. Here is the website again:
http://www.geocities.com/kayaker37/Aeneas_Birdwatcher.html
Copy of Article:
The Birdwatcher is an enigma. It doesn't look like a "real" sailboat
should, and yet as I've found over the years, it's sometimes better
than a "real" sailboat.
My last boat, "DIDO" (custom Bolger design) burned on me back in the
winter of 1991. I wrote Phil and told him my tail of woe and asked
what he had that was simple to build and smaller than Dido. The
Birdwatcher was one of the designs that came back to me. I didn't like
it. My girlfriend Lois asked me what was wrong with it?
"Too much window," I replied.
"Can't you change that?" she asked.... within a month I was building a
Birdwatcher.
The Birdwatcher is a simple boat to build. Since I intended building a
mold to produce an Airex-cored fibreglass boat, simple is very, very
good. If you've ever built a complex boat shape, then you'll know why
simplicity has its attractions. And with its unique superstructure it was
obvious I wouldn't have to build a second mold to mate to the hull to
complete the boat. In fact I built the superstructure out of welded
aluminum tubing and affixed the plexi-glass and deck to the framework.
I started the boat April Fool's Day and finished it August 20. I
christened it "POCO" as in Italian scoring for music. It means
"little" or "a little". It turned out very well indeed.
Then came the learning process of handling a Birdwatcher.
As you can see from the photos, I changed the profile in order to
accomplish three things. First I wanted "less" in the way of window so
I raised the hull sides by about 3 inches midway along the boat and
tapered that excess to zero at the boat ends. That's a personal
preference. I also wanted more room in the cockpit, so I sloped the
deck over the cockpit straight back to the rudder post, duplicating
the front run of the deck. And third I wanted access through the tarp
so as to be able to handle the sails with the tarp in place and be
able to reef or stow sails while underway in the rain.
The first two ideas worked splendidly. Actually so did the access
"through the tarp." Unfortunately, the rain found this out too. I went
through three modifications before I learned how to keep the wet out
of the boat... but the first overnighter was wet and miserable. My
original idea didn't work very well at all.
The second thing that became self-evident about a Birdwatcher is that
they are very tippy and really don't like to be jibed in heavy
weather. My last boat Dido was a powerful boat, and if I had to reef,
it meant we were in the middle of a hurricane. Poco is not like that.
I was off with my girlfriend Jane (yup new boat, new babe... that is
another story that won't be told here) who was an inexperienced
sailor. It was something like the third or fourth time I'd sailed Poco
and the first time for Lac la Ronge, a large lake of about 600 square
miles with something like 1,000 islands and reefs in it. The day had
heavy winds with whitecaps everywhere. Among the islands the waves
were probably restricted to about two to three feet.
This changed as we came out from a cut between two islands and headed
downwind on a four mile run through open water with a fetch of about
15 miles. Now the waves were from three to four feet in height.
I had the tarp in place, full main up. As with most sharpie/ flat
bottom boats, there is a lot of weather helm when they're pushed hard.
I had asked Jane to take the helm while I went forward for some gear.
Halfway to the bow the boat suddenly sheered sideways and went
completely over on its starboard side. I scrambled aft across a myriad
of loose items and watched mesmerized as the water rose up and down on
the clear plexi-glass which is supposed to face up, but was now the
new starboard side of the half-inverted hull. Slowly the boat blew
downwind of the mast and sail. At that point the top three feet of the
mast and sail cleared a wave top and the boat popped back upright.
None of this took longer than 30 seconds from start to finish, but I
don't mind telling you... it seemed forever.
It actually took me the rest of the day to (a) quit shaking and (b)
piece together in my mind what exactly had happened. My concentration
had been on my search for some gear when the knockdown happened. After
puzzling the pieces together I realized we'd gone through an
accidental jibe in heavy winds. The result was the complete knockdown.
I learned several things from that incident. First and foremost, the
boat can take a complete knockdown and recover. This is a 'nice to
know' fact but I don't suggest anyone try it in heavy weather unless
their nerves are far better than mine. Second, the boat is very tender
to an accidental jibe. Third, never sail a new boat the same way you
sailed an older boat. Fourth, never give responsibility of the helm to
someone inexperienced in sailing in heavy weather, it's not fair to
them and could cost you dearly. That incident shouldn't have happened.
That was damned poor "skippering" on my part, and had the boat
capsized ... I wouldn't have been writing this because the water that
day was less than a month out of the winter thaw.
The lesson learned became the lesson applied. After that event I
glassed in a significant amount of extra flotation. And I now have a
rule... if the winds are such that I have to down the main and sail
under the jib, I run a big fender up the sail track to the top of the
mast. In theory at least, that should prevent the boat from turning
turtle. I've been in some nasty weather in different sailboats in a
number of oceans... That was the third most scared I've ever been
while sailing.
You really have to be careful jibing a Birdwatcher. Myself, I will now
double tack if the winds are over 12 m.p.h. rather than jibe. I built
Poco with the big rig, and quite frankly I think you'd be silly to do
otherwise. You can always reef if the wind gets up, but you can't add
extra sail when you don't have it. It's amazing how little wind it
takes to make Poco move with her maximum amount of sail. And that
small jib gives an amazing extra bit of speed to the boat. Often when
I'm forced to reef, I'll reef the main and leave the jib up as it
gives me more speed -- even if tacking is then more difficult because
of the sprit being more forward.
And on the subject of reefing. First whitecap -- first reef.
Succeeding whitecaps -- second reef. I've had the boat knocked over to
60 degrees and beyond many times when fighting heavy seas, but never
felt endangered. I really think you need two reefs in the main for
safety sake if you're out on big water. That second reef in particular
gives you the ability to go up wind in the heaviest stuff the
birdwatcher can handle.
Poco is best in light to medium winds and goes like a thoroughbred in
such conditions, even to weather. In heavy airs, you can't point as
high, and her light weight slows her down. You've also got to bear off
more. In light to medium winds she'll tack at least 45 degrees by the
compass (or 90 degrees double tack). In heavy wind you may have to
bear off as much as 60 degrees (or 120 degrees double tack) to keep
any speed going (I'm not sure how much leeway you'd make in either of
these conditions. Her tacking ability I'm reporting is strictly one of
compass bearing) In critical conditions I drop the main and run
downwind with just the jib. Doing that you can take an awful lot of
bad weather and it gives you probably 150 degrees of steerability
before you start overpowering her ability to move in the desired
direction.
I've sailed Poco every year since I've built her. I've sailed her a
lot. We've been to Florida, Lake of the Woods, Lac la Ronge and a
number of smaller lakes around me. I probably average three to four
weeks of liveaboard every year.... albeit never more than 2 weeks at a
time. I find one week to 10 days to be maximum... after that I want
ashore and room!
Poco is a tender boat but that does have it's advantages. I've learned
to sit on the lee side when pounding to weather to present more of a
"V" to the waves. This works well but is more than a trifle
disconcerting the first few times you perch your butt to leeward. You
always have the feeling she's going to go over, but as long as you're
carrying the appropriate amount of sail, she never does even if you
get caught in a bad gust. And if you can find a number of people to
sail with you then you can put everyone on the windward side of the
hull and carry as much sail as you think your mast can take. She's
powerful then and will give everyone a really thrilling ride with lots
of spray and green water flying everywhere.
The boat rows easily. I've gotten lazy in the last couple of years
(rotator cuff problems to port) and added a small electric trolling
motor. Two deep cycle batteries run Poco at rowing speed for a very
long time. I've never run them down. I'm guessing I cruise at about
10-15 pounds thrust.
Disadvantages? Of course there are. I've mentioned my observations
about her sailing peccadilloes. For a long while I always had
mosquitoes bother me at night. It took a season and a half before I
found out where the damn bloodsuckers were coming in from. I am not
kidding when I say I once caught myself staring down into the
centreboard slot to see if the little buggers had scuba gear. The
answer manifested itself one very early morning I as I was sitting on
the pottee. I happened to look up at the mast only to see a sliver of
daylight peeking through the tarp tie-off. A mosquito was walking John
Travolta fashion down into the boat. I now spray a little repellent on
a sock (I still use the same sock) and wrap it around the mast before
tying the tarp up... no more mosquitoes. As I said, I went through
three designs to keep the rain out. Solved that one too! The
centreboard is both noisy and wet. At first I hated the sound of the
water sloshing around the centreboard trunk.
Now I think it's quite fun and gives a big ship, big adventure sound
to a little boat. The wet I've taken care of with a hinged aluminum
flap that closes over the centreboard slot when the board is down. The
rudder/tiller is a complicated thing and has a small amount of play
which translates into a certain amount of clicking and clacking. With
two people on board you're forced to sleep with your feet slightly
higher than your head because you'll have to sleep with your bodies
facing forward to have any room for your torso. Single handing I sleep
facing aft. If you spend any time in a marina aboard your boat at
night, you'll have to make up privacy curtains otherwise you're going
to find yourself live and in color on some porn site. In super heavy
rain you'll tend to get a tiny bit of wet coming in from the mast, the
seams on your tarp, and sometimes I swear, through the fibreglass
itself. Most of this can be creatively cured even in deluges of
biblical proportions. And finally, sometimes those damn windows will
let in too much light when you're trying to sleep.
Advantages... you bet. Those damn windows are wonderful things in the
rain or the evening. If there's enough light to read outside, you can
read inside. You can see all around you all the time. Try doing that
on any other sailboat! With maximum sail this is a fast little boat.
It points really well for a simple design, and except for being
hardmouthed from weatherhelm in the puffy stuff and testy when jibing,
is otherwise well mannered. I've rigged up a reefing system that
allows me to go from ahead to reefed to ahead in 60 seconds. By
utilizing zippered hatches in both ends of the tarp, I can reef with
the tarp in place. Being able to sail or row with the tarp in place
means you never have to wear rain gear again. It's nice to be able to
sail past someone who looks like a drowned rat while you're sipping on
a cup of coffee, lounging in your shorts and leaning back against the
hull... You have to remember to give them a nice wave as they aren't
having a good day. There are the advantages of shallow draft. Because
you use the cockpit for your sleeping berth you can use the rest of
the boat for stowage. I defy anyone to put more stuff into a boat this
small. And strangely enough, even overloaded you still have lots of of
people room. It defies believability. I've added shelving back in the
cockpit and small hammocks anywhere there's room. With the tarp off
you have running headroom virtually the entire length of the boat. As
I mentioned above, the back -- top of the deck extends aft in a line
identical to the way the front -- top deck slopes forward This means
you can sit on the cockpit side-decks or back end of the hatch and
sail the birdwatcher like a dingy... terrific fun.
And I guarantee you'll have interesting adventures. One of the
funniest stories I have to tell about Poco and I occurred on La la
Ronge. Being almost a wilderness lake you don't see that many people.
One hot lazy day as I was running down the outside Robertson Island I
decided that, "Hey... time for a little nude sailing." Ahh the
pleasures of hedonism. I rounded the south end of the island only to
suddenly notice a vicious thunderhead that had been hidden in the
heights of the Precambrian rock on Robertson. There was a flash of
lightning. There were raindrops. There was wind. Well I know I can
survive wind and I won't dissolve in water, but I don't know if I can
survive a lightning strike. So there I was, naked on the deck trying
to clamp my secondary lightning arrestor to the nipple that anchors
the sprit on a wildly shaking mast and sail. As if from a script, a
houseboat came into sight from the other side of the island. There
were people on the boat... lots of people. And to compound the felony,
my depth sounder alarm started beeping. Cameras, I noted, were in
evidence. Having attached the lightning arrestor cable I dropped down
into the boat and started putting in a reef. The houseboat rounded a
corner. The depthsounder quit beeping and the cloud, wind and rain
hung a left ... and left. And they say there are no such things as
gremlins! Small boat -- large adventures.
The Birdwatcher is a small boat with big potential even if she doesn't
look like a "real" boat.. but like I said, she's an enigma.
I'll respond a certain amount to questions, if it becomes onerous,
we'll have to start talking "consulting fees."
Aeneas Precht
the changes. The final article is below. Here is the website again:
http://www.geocities.com/kayaker37/Aeneas_Birdwatcher.html
Copy of Article:
The Birdwatcher is an enigma. It doesn't look like a "real" sailboat
should, and yet as I've found over the years, it's sometimes better
than a "real" sailboat.
My last boat, "DIDO" (custom Bolger design) burned on me back in the
winter of 1991. I wrote Phil and told him my tail of woe and asked
what he had that was simple to build and smaller than Dido. The
Birdwatcher was one of the designs that came back to me. I didn't like
it. My girlfriend Lois asked me what was wrong with it?
"Too much window," I replied.
"Can't you change that?" she asked.... within a month I was building a
Birdwatcher.
The Birdwatcher is a simple boat to build. Since I intended building a
mold to produce an Airex-cored fibreglass boat, simple is very, very
good. If you've ever built a complex boat shape, then you'll know why
simplicity has its attractions. And with its unique superstructure it was
obvious I wouldn't have to build a second mold to mate to the hull to
complete the boat. In fact I built the superstructure out of welded
aluminum tubing and affixed the plexi-glass and deck to the framework.
I started the boat April Fool's Day and finished it August 20. I
christened it "POCO" as in Italian scoring for music. It means
"little" or "a little". It turned out very well indeed.
Then came the learning process of handling a Birdwatcher.
As you can see from the photos, I changed the profile in order to
accomplish three things. First I wanted "less" in the way of window so
I raised the hull sides by about 3 inches midway along the boat and
tapered that excess to zero at the boat ends. That's a personal
preference. I also wanted more room in the cockpit, so I sloped the
deck over the cockpit straight back to the rudder post, duplicating
the front run of the deck. And third I wanted access through the tarp
so as to be able to handle the sails with the tarp in place and be
able to reef or stow sails while underway in the rain.
The first two ideas worked splendidly. Actually so did the access
"through the tarp." Unfortunately, the rain found this out too. I went
through three modifications before I learned how to keep the wet out
of the boat... but the first overnighter was wet and miserable. My
original idea didn't work very well at all.
The second thing that became self-evident about a Birdwatcher is that
they are very tippy and really don't like to be jibed in heavy
weather. My last boat Dido was a powerful boat, and if I had to reef,
it meant we were in the middle of a hurricane. Poco is not like that.
I was off with my girlfriend Jane (yup new boat, new babe... that is
another story that won't be told here) who was an inexperienced
sailor. It was something like the third or fourth time I'd sailed Poco
and the first time for Lac la Ronge, a large lake of about 600 square
miles with something like 1,000 islands and reefs in it. The day had
heavy winds with whitecaps everywhere. Among the islands the waves
were probably restricted to about two to three feet.
This changed as we came out from a cut between two islands and headed
downwind on a four mile run through open water with a fetch of about
15 miles. Now the waves were from three to four feet in height.
I had the tarp in place, full main up. As with most sharpie/ flat
bottom boats, there is a lot of weather helm when they're pushed hard.
I had asked Jane to take the helm while I went forward for some gear.
Halfway to the bow the boat suddenly sheered sideways and went
completely over on its starboard side. I scrambled aft across a myriad
of loose items and watched mesmerized as the water rose up and down on
the clear plexi-glass which is supposed to face up, but was now the
new starboard side of the half-inverted hull. Slowly the boat blew
downwind of the mast and sail. At that point the top three feet of the
mast and sail cleared a wave top and the boat popped back upright.
None of this took longer than 30 seconds from start to finish, but I
don't mind telling you... it seemed forever.
It actually took me the rest of the day to (a) quit shaking and (b)
piece together in my mind what exactly had happened. My concentration
had been on my search for some gear when the knockdown happened. After
puzzling the pieces together I realized we'd gone through an
accidental jibe in heavy winds. The result was the complete knockdown.
I learned several things from that incident. First and foremost, the
boat can take a complete knockdown and recover. This is a 'nice to
know' fact but I don't suggest anyone try it in heavy weather unless
their nerves are far better than mine. Second, the boat is very tender
to an accidental jibe. Third, never sail a new boat the same way you
sailed an older boat. Fourth, never give responsibility of the helm to
someone inexperienced in sailing in heavy weather, it's not fair to
them and could cost you dearly. That incident shouldn't have happened.
That was damned poor "skippering" on my part, and had the boat
capsized ... I wouldn't have been writing this because the water that
day was less than a month out of the winter thaw.
The lesson learned became the lesson applied. After that event I
glassed in a significant amount of extra flotation. And I now have a
rule... if the winds are such that I have to down the main and sail
under the jib, I run a big fender up the sail track to the top of the
mast. In theory at least, that should prevent the boat from turning
turtle. I've been in some nasty weather in different sailboats in a
number of oceans... That was the third most scared I've ever been
while sailing.
You really have to be careful jibing a Birdwatcher. Myself, I will now
double tack if the winds are over 12 m.p.h. rather than jibe. I built
Poco with the big rig, and quite frankly I think you'd be silly to do
otherwise. You can always reef if the wind gets up, but you can't add
extra sail when you don't have it. It's amazing how little wind it
takes to make Poco move with her maximum amount of sail. And that
small jib gives an amazing extra bit of speed to the boat. Often when
I'm forced to reef, I'll reef the main and leave the jib up as it
gives me more speed -- even if tacking is then more difficult because
of the sprit being more forward.
And on the subject of reefing. First whitecap -- first reef.
Succeeding whitecaps -- second reef. I've had the boat knocked over to
60 degrees and beyond many times when fighting heavy seas, but never
felt endangered. I really think you need two reefs in the main for
safety sake if you're out on big water. That second reef in particular
gives you the ability to go up wind in the heaviest stuff the
birdwatcher can handle.
Poco is best in light to medium winds and goes like a thoroughbred in
such conditions, even to weather. In heavy airs, you can't point as
high, and her light weight slows her down. You've also got to bear off
more. In light to medium winds she'll tack at least 45 degrees by the
compass (or 90 degrees double tack). In heavy wind you may have to
bear off as much as 60 degrees (or 120 degrees double tack) to keep
any speed going (I'm not sure how much leeway you'd make in either of
these conditions. Her tacking ability I'm reporting is strictly one of
compass bearing) In critical conditions I drop the main and run
downwind with just the jib. Doing that you can take an awful lot of
bad weather and it gives you probably 150 degrees of steerability
before you start overpowering her ability to move in the desired
direction.
I've sailed Poco every year since I've built her. I've sailed her a
lot. We've been to Florida, Lake of the Woods, Lac la Ronge and a
number of smaller lakes around me. I probably average three to four
weeks of liveaboard every year.... albeit never more than 2 weeks at a
time. I find one week to 10 days to be maximum... after that I want
ashore and room!
Poco is a tender boat but that does have it's advantages. I've learned
to sit on the lee side when pounding to weather to present more of a
"V" to the waves. This works well but is more than a trifle
disconcerting the first few times you perch your butt to leeward. You
always have the feeling she's going to go over, but as long as you're
carrying the appropriate amount of sail, she never does even if you
get caught in a bad gust. And if you can find a number of people to
sail with you then you can put everyone on the windward side of the
hull and carry as much sail as you think your mast can take. She's
powerful then and will give everyone a really thrilling ride with lots
of spray and green water flying everywhere.
The boat rows easily. I've gotten lazy in the last couple of years
(rotator cuff problems to port) and added a small electric trolling
motor. Two deep cycle batteries run Poco at rowing speed for a very
long time. I've never run them down. I'm guessing I cruise at about
10-15 pounds thrust.
Disadvantages? Of course there are. I've mentioned my observations
about her sailing peccadilloes. For a long while I always had
mosquitoes bother me at night. It took a season and a half before I
found out where the damn bloodsuckers were coming in from. I am not
kidding when I say I once caught myself staring down into the
centreboard slot to see if the little buggers had scuba gear. The
answer manifested itself one very early morning I as I was sitting on
the pottee. I happened to look up at the mast only to see a sliver of
daylight peeking through the tarp tie-off. A mosquito was walking John
Travolta fashion down into the boat. I now spray a little repellent on
a sock (I still use the same sock) and wrap it around the mast before
tying the tarp up... no more mosquitoes. As I said, I went through
three designs to keep the rain out. Solved that one too! The
centreboard is both noisy and wet. At first I hated the sound of the
water sloshing around the centreboard trunk.
Now I think it's quite fun and gives a big ship, big adventure sound
to a little boat. The wet I've taken care of with a hinged aluminum
flap that closes over the centreboard slot when the board is down. The
rudder/tiller is a complicated thing and has a small amount of play
which translates into a certain amount of clicking and clacking. With
two people on board you're forced to sleep with your feet slightly
higher than your head because you'll have to sleep with your bodies
facing forward to have any room for your torso. Single handing I sleep
facing aft. If you spend any time in a marina aboard your boat at
night, you'll have to make up privacy curtains otherwise you're going
to find yourself live and in color on some porn site. In super heavy
rain you'll tend to get a tiny bit of wet coming in from the mast, the
seams on your tarp, and sometimes I swear, through the fibreglass
itself. Most of this can be creatively cured even in deluges of
biblical proportions. And finally, sometimes those damn windows will
let in too much light when you're trying to sleep.
Advantages... you bet. Those damn windows are wonderful things in the
rain or the evening. If there's enough light to read outside, you can
read inside. You can see all around you all the time. Try doing that
on any other sailboat! With maximum sail this is a fast little boat.
It points really well for a simple design, and except for being
hardmouthed from weatherhelm in the puffy stuff and testy when jibing,
is otherwise well mannered. I've rigged up a reefing system that
allows me to go from ahead to reefed to ahead in 60 seconds. By
utilizing zippered hatches in both ends of the tarp, I can reef with
the tarp in place. Being able to sail or row with the tarp in place
means you never have to wear rain gear again. It's nice to be able to
sail past someone who looks like a drowned rat while you're sipping on
a cup of coffee, lounging in your shorts and leaning back against the
hull... You have to remember to give them a nice wave as they aren't
having a good day. There are the advantages of shallow draft. Because
you use the cockpit for your sleeping berth you can use the rest of
the boat for stowage. I defy anyone to put more stuff into a boat this
small. And strangely enough, even overloaded you still have lots of of
people room. It defies believability. I've added shelving back in the
cockpit and small hammocks anywhere there's room. With the tarp off
you have running headroom virtually the entire length of the boat. As
I mentioned above, the back -- top of the deck extends aft in a line
identical to the way the front -- top deck slopes forward This means
you can sit on the cockpit side-decks or back end of the hatch and
sail the birdwatcher like a dingy... terrific fun.
And I guarantee you'll have interesting adventures. One of the
funniest stories I have to tell about Poco and I occurred on La la
Ronge. Being almost a wilderness lake you don't see that many people.
One hot lazy day as I was running down the outside Robertson Island I
decided that, "Hey... time for a little nude sailing." Ahh the
pleasures of hedonism. I rounded the south end of the island only to
suddenly notice a vicious thunderhead that had been hidden in the
heights of the Precambrian rock on Robertson. There was a flash of
lightning. There were raindrops. There was wind. Well I know I can
survive wind and I won't dissolve in water, but I don't know if I can
survive a lightning strike. So there I was, naked on the deck trying
to clamp my secondary lightning arrestor to the nipple that anchors
the sprit on a wildly shaking mast and sail. As if from a script, a
houseboat came into sight from the other side of the island. There
were people on the boat... lots of people. And to compound the felony,
my depth sounder alarm started beeping. Cameras, I noted, were in
evidence. Having attached the lightning arrestor cable I dropped down
into the boat and started putting in a reef. The houseboat rounded a
corner. The depthsounder quit beeping and the cloud, wind and rain
hung a left ... and left. And they say there are no such things as
gremlins! Small boat -- large adventures.
The Birdwatcher is a small boat with big potential even if she doesn't
look like a "real" boat.. but like I said, she's an enigma.
I'll respond a certain amount to questions, if it becomes onerous,
we'll have to start talking "consulting fees."
Aeneas Precht
--- Inbolger@yahoogroups.com, "Nels" <arvent@h...> wrote:
really want to get lost:)
http://tinyurl.com/5eagc
Cheers, Nels
> Anybody who is curious about where Lac La Ronge is can click hereand
> zoom in on the star.Should have added this too - "Lake Of The Woods" - for those who
>
>http://tinyurl.com/4u3z2
>
really want to get lost:)
http://tinyurl.com/5eagc
Cheers, Nels
--- Inbolger@yahoogroups.com, "Paul" <kayaker37@h...> wrote:
zoom in on the star.
http://tinyurl.com/4u3z2
Great place for a Birdwatcher as that lake si really too big for
canoeing
It is just south of the Churchill River which is still mainly
pristine wilderness and made famous by Sigurd Olsons' classic
book "The Lonely Lane".
http://www.upress.umn.edu/Books/O/Olson_lonely.html
You can still catch your own breakfast every morning and drink right
out of the river:-)
Cheers, Nels
>Anybody who is curious about where Lac La Ronge is can click here and
>
> Sorry, meant here:
>
zoom in on the star.
http://tinyurl.com/4u3z2
Great place for a Birdwatcher as that lake si really too big for
canoeing
It is just south of the Churchill River which is still mainly
pristine wilderness and made famous by Sigurd Olsons' classic
book "The Lonely Lane".
http://www.upress.umn.edu/Books/O/Olson_lonely.html
You can still catch your own breakfast every morning and drink right
out of the river:-)
Cheers, Nels
Sorry, meant here:
http://www.geocities.com/kayaker37/Aeneas_Hi_Res_1.html
http://www.geocities.com/kayaker37/Aeneas_Hi_Res_2.html
http://www.geocities.com/kayaker37/Aeneas_Hi_Res_1.html
http://www.geocities.com/kayaker37/Aeneas_Hi_Res_2.html
> Aeneas was kind enough to send some hi res pics so I have added them
> to my website. Click on each small pic to open a high resolution
> version. Also, I guess some people like to sail naked, so nudity
> warning. Won't catch me doing this. Some great pics here. There is a
> download limit, so if you get a warning, try again later.
>
> Aeneas_Hi_Res_1.html
> Aeneas_Hi_Res_2.html
>
> enjoy,
> Paul
Aeneas was kind enough to send some hi res pics so I have added them
to my website. Click on each small pic to open a high resolution
version. Also, I guess some people like to sail naked, so nudity
warning. Won't catch me doing this. Some great pics here. There is a
download limit, so if you get a warning, try again later.
Aeneas_Hi_Res_1.html
Aeneas_Hi_Res_2.html
enjoy,
Paul
to my website. Click on each small pic to open a high resolution
version. Also, I guess some people like to sail naked, so nudity
warning. Won't catch me doing this. Some great pics here. There is a
download limit, so if you get a warning, try again later.
Aeneas_Hi_Res_1.html
Aeneas_Hi_Res_2.html
enjoy,
Paul