Chasing History: Exploring My Ancestral Roots - Blog Post #51
By Tonya Graham McQuade
Since today is Father’s Day, it seems like a good time to add another post about my father, Douglas William Graham. There are several that I’ve wanted to write for a while now, but since I’ve just retired, I thought I’d write about what my dad decided to do when he retired at 55: compete in the Single Handed Sailing Society's 1996 TransPac Race from San Francisco to Kauai's Hanalei Bay. And yes, that means he sailed ALONE across the Pacific Ocean to Hawaii, while my mom sat nervously at home, anxious to hear any bits of news she could as to how he was doing.
But first, here’s a poem I wrote for my dad some years back for Father’s Day:
To a Dad Who Is …
A sailboat always looking for adventure,
striving to catch the wind
and see where it will take him.
A whale traveling the world,
looming large in the minds of many
and being something of a rarity,
yet never losing track of
what it means to come home.
An anchor that holds things in place,
gives support and strength when needed,
and gives weight to things that matter.
A lighthouse guiding those around
to exciting places where they, too,
might experience something new.
Thanks, Dad, for setting our sails toward the future,
for giving us a “whale” of help along the way,
for anchoring us to a strong foundation,
and for offering us your light, love, and guidance
as we journey through the sea of life.
- Dedicated to Doug Graham, date unknown
My dad always enjoyed sailing, and he had a variety of sailboats as I was growing up. Mostly, in my younger years, they were small sailboats we could take out to Contra Loma Reservoir in Antioch, where I could impress my friends by sailing them around by ourselves. It didn’t matter if we tipped over since it was easy to “right” the sailboat and set sail once again. Getting it back to where we needed to land was always the tricky part, but we never had to be rescued as far as I recall (if we did, I have “put it out of mind” - lol).
Eventually, he started buying larger boats. One sailing excursion that stands out vividly in my mind is when he took me and my friend Lori out on San Francisco Bay. That made for a much more wild ride than Contra Loma, and I remember both of us “leaning out” as far as we possibly could to keep from tipping over out on the Bay. I certainly did not want to end up in the water there, where I knew sharks could be swimming by. Fortunately, we did not tip over - but I knew after that excursion that I preferred “smooth sailing” in lakes.
Doug sailing Big Dot
I was out of the house, already teaching at Los Gatos High School, when my dad bought “Big Dot,” named after my mother Dotty, in 1993. After making some changes and reinforcements to his new 24-foot Pacific Dolphin built in 1977, he decided that - to celebrate his retirement - he wanted to participate in the SSS race. Here is the text of the event press release that was written at the time (as printed on this website):
"Safe and secure can be boring," notes Doug. While most of us might think of teaching high school in these troubled times as anything but safe, secure or boring, ever since he started sailing six years ago, Graham has looked to the water for fulfillment. "My friends think I'm crazy to do this," he says. "I'm just thankful I can call it a race, and do it with a group equally as crazy."
Although sailing the tiniest boat, Big Dot (named for his wife, Dotty), Doug is considered by some to be the race's dark horse. "With that rating, he could get there a month after everyone else and still win," laughs odds-on race favorite Bruce Schwab. "I'm more scared of that boat than any of the others."
Douglas Graham in 1996
To Graham, though, the '96 Singlehanded TransPac is about personal accomplishment, not hard-driving trophy hunting. "The milestone for me," he says, "will be just getting there."
Graham has put a good bit of work and gear into the boat to do this race, including extra cabinets, a little doghouse, solar panels and almost all new standing and running rigging. Echoing the sentiments of other married boatowners everywhere, Doug notes, "My wife doesn't understand how I can spend so much on such a little boat!"
Like most of his peers, Doug will get the rest he needs by taking 2-hour naps during the day. He'll stay awake from midnight until dawn. Also like many competitors, he looks forward to opening a 'halfway package' from Dotty.
In a milestone of another kind, the race is something of a retirement gift Doug is giving to himself. June marks the "grand finale" in his career as a teacher.
Graham offers special thanks to his wife "who didn't always encourage me, but always said, 'buy it'."
Navigation: Garmin GPSs (2), sextant backup; Steering: Navik windvane, Navico autopilot; Food: One-pot meals, stew as long as the fresh food holds out, then canned and dried.
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Before he set off, my mom hosted a Retirement/Bon Voyage party for my dad, and here you can see him holding up a couple of the gifts he received.
Big Dot Sails: June 29, 1996
Bon Voyage!
My dad’s "sailing companion," wearing a “Hawaii or Bust” shirt
Big Dot ended up winning her 9 boat division at the 1996 Single Handed Transpac Race, over 2000 miles from San Francisco to Kauai's Hanalei Bay, and was 2nd overall in the 16 boat fleet. Big Dot's elapsed time was 16 days, 7 hours and 43 minutes, and she averaged 5.26 knots for the 2120 nautical mile race.
My mom flew to Kauai to meet my dad at the end of the race, and they were able to enjoy some beautiful scenery and relaxing time together before he began the journey home. That required him to sail north before turning toward home and took 28 long days at sea. I was among those who were there to meet him, with Aaron who had just turned one, when he finally got back to Antioch. He was wearing the shirt that his “companion” had been wearing, which now said “Antioch or Bust.” Fortunately, he did not bust - and he was glad to be home.
Aaron helps welcome "Poppy" back to Antioch from Hawaii in 1996
Years later, my father was contacted by Kevin O’Leary from the Dolphin24.org website to tell his Big Dot story, as well as to share some of his sailing adventures since then. Here is his story, in his own words, reprinted from the website:
February 4, 2008
It has been twelve years since that adventure. I have been building and sailing 12’ San Francisco Pelicans for racing and cruising since then. I chose a Dolphin because I like the traditional look, and I wanted the potential to cruise. I didn’t like the expense of the marina year round, and I enjoy working on my boat at home. After a solo trip from San Francisco to Southern California, I decided I didn’t want anymore solo ocean sailing, but I wanted to learn more about sailing.
In 1994, I joined the Single-Handed Sailing Society in San Francisco. Before this, my sailing knowledge came out of a book and my own experience. I learned a great deal about racing and cruising in this organization. I kept improving my boat and skills, and I decided to do the Long-Pac, which is a race 200 miles out into the Pacific Ocean and back. It is rough sailing off the Pacific coast, and after getting slammed about for five days, I wanted no part of the Hawaii race. However, I kept improving the boat, equipment, and my skills. Eventually, I got to the point where I just had to do the Transpac.
I suppose I was driven to do this because I can’t resist a challenge. I was afraid of this challenge, but extensive preparation and experiences in local races and cruising helped give me the courage. The Single-Handed Sailing Society also had about eight monthly meetings with speakers on each phase of the preparation. My wife, the reluctant sailor, went to these meetings with me to make sure I wasn’t taking any shortcuts. She insisted I have an SSB, which led to the necessity of a generator. I spent over $10,000 getting the boat ready for the trip.
After the Transpac, I did sail down the coast in a race to Santa Barbara with my son, and then went on to Ensenada, Mexico with a friend. Reluctantly, I sold the boat in 2000 because I was looking for new challenges. I would have liked to have gotten a bigger and more comfortable boat and joined the cruising life part of the year, but my wife, whom I love, is of a different temperament.
I think SSS members questioned my ability more than the boat for the Transpac. My non-sailing friends in Antioch questioned both. Regarding my experiences at sea, I would say at times I was scared, lonely, and discouraged. You can’t dwell on this aspect of a solo voyage or you will drive yourself crazy. I was in touch with others in the race twice a day, and I called my wife every third day. I read a lot and designed a camper for my truck, which I built when I got home. I checked the rigging and wind vane hardware once a day.
The longer you are at sea, the more you are in tune to your environment and you also become more sensitive to its moods. I slept whenever I felt tired, usually about one or two hours at a time, unless a squall came through, when I had to lower the twin head-sails. I spent most of my time down below. It was always kind of amazing that the boat was still going when I woke up. I couldn't let myself worry about other boats and ships. Most of the trip was out of the shipping channels. At night, I kept a strobe going on top of the mast and the VHF on Channel 16.
Unlike some of the boats, I didn’t have very many mishaps. I tore out the tack on one of the twin headsails, but I was able to repair it. On the return trip, I heard a banging against the hull during rough weather. It turned out to be the headstay. It didn’t take long to drop all sails. It turned out to be a broken turnbuckle. I replaced it with a spare. During one of the squalls on my approach to Hawaii, I lowered all sails and I was still doing four knots. I use a spinnaker in light air, but it required too much attention and worry. I mostly relied on a set of used twin headsails, especially at night, on my way to Hawaii. With the CB up and the twins pulling, I could ride a wave for a long ways!
Here are some of the modifications I made to the boat. I reinforced the bow area with fiberglass to prevent oil canning. I put in large cockpit drain holes leading into the engine well. I rigged the boat so I could raise and lower the mast myself. I built doghouse to replace the hatch cover, so I could stand up down below and look out.
My daily routine was mostly boring. Radio check-in was usually the highlight. When you are alone at sea, boring is good. Cooking was one pot meal on a sea swing stove. The head was a bucket. Showers were a sunshower in the cockpit. I plotted my position on the chart a couple times a day. I navigated with the GPS set for Analgesia Bay, Kauai. I set the deviation for + or – 5 miles. I usually had to adjust the wind vane every four hours. I motored through most highs on return trip using autopilot.
What did I learn about myself and the boat? I think the boat and I became one. I took care of the boat and the boat took care of me. A third party on the trip would have to be the elements. All three of us worked together and responded accordingly. The longer you are on the water, the more you feel a part of your boat and the environment.
I still find it amazing that I accomplished this feat. I learned that I am made of more than I thought.
Doug
My parents enjoyed many sailing adventures in those Pelican sailboats over the years - and our family was able to join them for quite a few of them. When they were younger, Aaron and Anna especially enjoyed the races at Lake Merritt in Oakland, where “Poppy” would often take them along on the boat as his “crew,” then Grama would take them to Fairyland where they could go on rides, see animals, use their “magic keys” to hear nursery rhymes, and play at the park.
Of course, the kids were not always especially helpful - especially the time Anna pulled up the rudder while sailing in Lake Merritt without my father noticing, and he couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t straighten out the boat. On another occasion, when they were participating in a race on the San Joaquin River in Stockton, Anna was tasked with helping to empty out water from the boat after they tipped over. I was rather nervous watching that race since there were large ships passing by!
Anna and "Poppy" bail out water on the San Joaquin River in Stockton
One Pelican Sailing Society race I definitely did NOT enjoy was at Half Moon Bay, where my dad convinced Mike to take me out on the boat. While we were out on the water, the race organizers decided to start one of the races, and my dad told Mike to go ahead and do the race. Not being very experienced at sailing the Pelican, we decided to try to stay in the rear. Wouldn’t you know, we got a great start and were in the lead. That is, until we got past the pier that was blocking a lot of the wind!
Once that wind hit, we started slowly tipping over. I kept yelling, “Let out the sail! Let out the sail!” but Mike had no idea how to do that - at least not in a moment of panic. Down we went, into the cold, shark-infested (at least in my mind) waters of Half Moon Bay. There, one of my forlorn white sandals sits to this day. Fortunately, someone stopped to tell us what we needed to do to get the boat back upright, and once we did, we started the slow journey back to shore, as everyone watched our slow progress, bailing out water as we went.
Once there, my dad - who had recently built this Pelican - informed us he wasn’t actually sure whether it would sink or not because he had reduced the amount of flotation in it. He did, however, assure Mike he did a good job getting the boat back up. Cold, embarrassed, and frustrated, but glad not to have sunk my dad’s boat, we dried off - and eventually we could laugh about it. Later that year, at the annual awards ceremony, we won the “Turtle Award” for the best tip over. We got to keep the trophy for a year, then passed it along to the next Turtle winner. LOL.
My dad no longer owns a sailboat, and our most recent family “sailing” adventures have involved Disney cruise ships. I’m sure he sometimes misses those old days out on the water. I hope this Father’s Day post helps him relive some of those great memories - and I hope he still has another sailboat adventure at some point in the future.
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