Fresh produce from a cruising ketch’s deck
Issue 48 : May/Jun 2006
Heading north from Nanaimo to begin our circumnavigation of Vancouver Island on Canada’s west coast, we passed another sailboat heading south, returning to the United States. As our sterns were side by side the skipper pointed and asked, “What is that?”
“That” was our summer garden. Resting on the cabintop, secured with a bungee cord, was our pot of herbs and lettuce protected by a greenhouse. Sometimes it’s the little things that make a voyage memorable.
Our 41-foot pilothouse ketch, Sea-Sund, made by SeaFinn in Finland, has lots of creature comforts designed for coastal cruising. But having aboard a bounty of fresh-picked lettuce leaves, parsley garnishes, and the tang of cilantro in a catch-of-the-day seviche gives us a welcome treat for the long weeks without provisioning opportunities for fresh greens.
Why a greenhouse? The summer before, cruising the Inside Passage to Alaska, I’d tried growing a pot of herbs without benefit of protection. My abject failure began with a litany of weather onslaughts. Consider that it rains about 335 days a year in south-east Alaska. So I was always trying to dry out the pot in our steaming cabin filled with wet slickers and dripping condensation. The unfriendly wind stripped budding leaves from scraggly plants that had been deprived of sunshine and warmth. Add poisonous salt spray. It doesn’t take a horticultural specialist to predict the outcome.
In spite of nursing the sickly pot of parsley, rosemary, basil, and cilantro for more than a month, nothing was growing. Generous dollops of fertilizer did not help. Talking to the plants to coax them to grow didn’t help either. Finally my husband, Ken, in hushed funereal tones, asked if we could please put it out of its misery and conduct a burial at sea. I couldn’t watch as the pot of herbs hit the briny deep. It was like giving up on a friend.
Sawdust flying
The following winter, Mr. Handyman was whistling while he worked in the garage. The table saw was buzzing and sawdust flying when I came out to investigate. Ken was grinning. “I’m making you a present for your birthday,” he announced and showed me the drawing he created for his latest woodworking project. I’m used to his overbuilding/engineering tendencies. But even I was skeptical that a greenhouse could withstand the punishment outside on deck all summer. He was so pleased with his idea, I didn’t have the heart to express my doubts. Good thing too. As I saw it take shape I marveled at his ingenuity. It was roomy, with spacious headroom for growing and an acrylic cover to warm and protect the tender starts. It fit on top of our pilothouse without interfering with the lines, sails, or companionway slide.
Spring planting time came, and I was excited. Gourmet lettuce planted, herbs tucked among the greens, the saucer-shaped pot filled to capacity, we were ready to install it aboard. You might imagine the stares and questions from our dock neighbors. As we prepared for departure day with a flotilla of 11 other sailboats on our voyage around Vancouver Island, you might also imagine envious looks from other provisioning spouses.
When we rounded notorious Cape Scott in heavy winds, the greenhouse was secured with just a bungee cord. The stretch in the line had the wooden structure sliding and slamming from wave to wave, the greenhouse “catching air.” We augmented the design by adding a sturdy line.
No fresh produce
We finally landed at Winter Harbour, expecting to replenish supplies. There, a small store serves the three year-round residents and the summer fishing boats. Skippers and spouses left the dock to find the boardwalk, charging hopefully into the walk-in produce cooler. The only fresh provisions left were one onion and a bag of potatoes. Unluckily for us, 20 raceboats, competing in a race around Vancouver Island, had been docked there the night before. They’d wiped out all fresh supplies. The next delivery wasn’t due for a few weeks. Now our fellow cruisers were sending very envious and longing looks toward my greenhouse. Unfortunately, we didn’t have enough lettuce to share.
The following summer, sailing by ourselves, we skipped the marinas dotting the Inside Passage and stayed strictly on the outside, greenhouse aboard. We took our time exploring the wild west coast of Vancouver Island, and we made improvements in our spring planting. This time we had lettuce to share when we met other boaters. The greenhouse was also a great conversation starter in every anchorage and dock. Many cruisers had heard of the sailboat with the greenhouse and were eager to see it themselves.
Thank you to Sailrite Enterprises, Inc., for providing free access to back issues of Good Old Boat through intellectual property rights. Sailrite.com
