May 9.   Wednesday I got up bright and early, because I had to show up at 8:30 at the Jerry’s Rogue Jets jet boat company for my ride upriver. Outside the sun was bright and the wind was blowing like it had been the last couple of days. Too windy to sail Fetch. Apparently they have lots of stiff northern breezes here this time of year. The climate here seems to lean more toward the California climate, because I saw my first real palm tree on this trip.

 

 

 

Jerry’s Rogue Jets seems like a well set up enterprise. Their trips are well presented and you are well taken care of. They also support the local businesses by referring people to them in the reception area as well as during the trip. There are restaurants, lodges, campgrounds, fish and rafting guides all depending on tourism. I learned from fellow passengers that it’s also somewhat controversial to run powerful yet boats up this river. Rafters, nature lovers and god knows who may not appreciate the roaring yet boats coming by. However, I was impressed how our pilot considered other rivers users, by slowing down or making a special maneuver reducing the wake in that spot. I think attracting tourism to a certain area is always controversial; it brings money to an area, but some folks hate it. The entire Oregon Coast is riddled with RV parks, gift shops and recreational opportunities. All terrain vehicles (ATV) is very big in the Oregon dunes.

 

 

 

The Rogue River has a long history of settlers and their transportation. For a long time there were no roads going upriver and everything had to be carried over the turbulent waters. I’ve included a picture with a synopsis of the history. There is a small museum showing a lot of old photo’s and information about this river. In 1958 two brothers Jerry and Alden Boice build a revolutionary water jet propulsion system. They had drawings from an Australian (or New Zealand?) design and build themselves a version of it from scratch. This system allowed them to propel boats in water as shallow as 10 to even 6 inches! Water gets sucked into a powerful pump, gets compressed and jets out the back. Keeping rocks and sticks out is somewhat of a concern, but if beats propeller driven motors, bending and losing blades every good hit. A lot of fish boats have jet in- and outboards on the rivers.

 

 

 

 

 

This being America, those bigger yet boats are no wimpy machines. Somewhere inside this welded aluminum, beamy shallow craft they stuffed three Chevy V-8 engines of 6 liter each (I know, they sit in the stern). Together they produce 1000 hp and I was in awe with the power. It may be a surprise to some of you, but I am a bit of a sucker for powerful well made machines (any well made machine for that mater). To put a craft together so well geared for its function and so maneuverable is quite an accomplishment. Our driver threw this thing across the water like it was a go-cart, inching by rocks and twigs to thrill his passengers. Most popular no doubt, was the spin. At a wide enough spot in the river he would rev up and threw this thing around 180 degrees, splashing water everywhere, just avoiding shipping hundreds of gallons of river water inside the boat. The hull is so shallow that it skids sideways like a snowboard. Carrying up to 35 passengers the average speed was 30 knots with a top speed of around 50! That’s high way speed (not for you European readers of course). Our pilot did admit that fuel consumption was not so great; that trip we would burn about 120 gallons of gas (about 460 liter). Oh well, I know all about that, because my camper has a very similar engine, burning about one gallon every 11 miles. This is while pulling Fetch, going the 101 route which is not a free way. At times it seems I can see the fuel gauge go down as I go. To make up for this rash fuel consumption I may have to live all solar for the rest of my life!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our driver lived along the river all his life. I believe he was a grandchild of one of the Boice brothers. He was very connected to the river, knew all the good fishing spots and told us stories about settlers all along the river. His sense of humor added greatly to the experience. He had his dog Agnes along, who was a character in and of herself. Every time the boat slowed down, she would come forward and say hi to the passengers. At every dock she couldn’t wait to jump off to take a leak. She listened to orders strictly.

 

 

 

We stopped at a lot of fish boats to see what they had caught. This time of year one can only keep farmed Salmon, size mattered also, but I forgot exactly how. You can only keep two per day (of certain size). A lot of guys had to throw back more than 50% of their catch, which didn’t please them because it is a lot of work to hook one and to get it in the boat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The river was divided in zones; recreational, scenic and wild I believe. Further up the river there are wider protection zones (up to two miles) along the riverbanks. Upriver it certainly became more gorgeous as we went.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At 52 miles upriver we reached a dangerous rapid, Blossom Bar Rapids, at which point we had to turn around. Several people (kayakers and rafters I suppose) die in that area yearly.

 

 

 

 

 

After a happy mix of speeding, slow drifting, spinning and narration, we arrived at the lunch spot. A buffet was set up for us which we enjoyed sitting on the deck overlooking the river. Food was delicious, service and views were great. There were several signs witnessing high water events, one of which in 1964 was particularly bad. At 2:30 we all went aboard again for our return trip. At several point on the trip I realized what a lucky bastard I was to be there.

 

 

 

 

 

As I’m taking a break from writing this, I step outside to stretch and look at the river flowing by, at least 3 Ospreys in sight at any given time, few eagles now and then and lots of swallows. They build their nests under the bridge and there may be about a thousand of them! I’ve never seen so many swallows in one place. I believe they are Cliff Swallows. It’s time to get on the road again, maybe to Crescent City today?…

 

 

May 7.   I left Coos Bay early in the foggy morning without making breakfast, because I didn’t want to be hassled by guys coming to work. The fog was only local and soon I was in bright sun again. In Bandon I was able to post the last blog in the Bandon Coffee Café while enjoying coffee with a bagel. Bandon is clearly more oriented toward tourists than Charleston was, there were plenty gift stores to chose from. I skipped all of them, but did stop by a nice bookstore.

 

 

 

I watched some guys crabbing. They picked this spot in a strong current, right upstream from a few poles in the water with water gurgling by. They must have known that spot to be good, because it was hard to navigate. They put out 4 crab pots and left for only 15 minutes to come back and check them. One guy hooked the float with a hook and pulled the pot in. If it looked any good they would dump it in the boat. If they looked all too small, the whole thing went back overboard. It was surprising how many crabs they caught in such little time, sometimes about 6 per pot in that short while. Most of them however went back in. I think they have to let females go and small ones. They worked their pots for an hour and went downriver for more. An hour and a half later they were still at it.

 

 

The headland there is called Oregon Islands and is quite spectacular. Many islands with grass on top are inhabited by lots of seabirds. Surf was crashing through there and the strong wind made for wild take-offs and landings for those birds. Apparently the islands are a nesting spot as well as a rest stop during migration. I’ve included some pictures with information about that. Some small birds fly 18,000 miles round trip! Makes my trip look like nothing and I got a big V-8 doing all the work!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A few miles down the road I stopped at Face Rock. A very curious rock indeed. It does look strikingly like a face looking up to the sky.

 

 

 

 

Driving through those towns I get the feeling that, at least this part of Oregon, is quite conservative. Looking at the buildings, overhearing some conversations and seeing all those big trucks with big blokes in them…not a area I would be comfortable living in. Characteristic though.

 

 

 

 

I picked an RV park along side a small lake. Make sure you read the story about that lake on below picture! And then there was a sunset. The sky turned orange and the sun got some weird shapes before if disappeared.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

May 8.

I cooked hot breakfast and got on the road at 10:30. Blue sky and plenty wind. Cape Blanco nearly blew me out of my jacket, so I didn’t stay long. There were some nasty rocks sticking way out in the ocean with breakers blowing right over them, better stay off shore a bit in going by there. I think most sailors stay a hundred miles off shore anyway. This part of the coast is quite notorious for rough seas, is what I have heard.

 

 

 

The coast has a walking trail as well as a biking trail along it. I didn’t see hikers, but quite a few bikers. Seeing them plugging up those long endless hills made me wonder how they feel about that. Does it make them feel good and strong or are they sorry they ever got in that situation. I guess a bit of both now and then. Come to think of it; I actually once biked through Scotland, but I was young and fit then… What didn’t seem attractive is that they ride on this narrow strip along the road, with gravel on it occasionally, while cars and trucks zoom by your shoulder.

 

 

I passed the Rogue River Bridge and walked back to take some pictures of it. There are a lot of beautiful bridges along the Oregon coast. Back in the thirties they build bridges like cathedrals. Quite an exercise in concrete work and engineering. Oregon is very proud of those bridges and keeps them up quite well, in 1999 they spend 13 million to restore this historic monument.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In Gold Beach, on the other side of the river, I stopped by a river tour company for some local river knowledge. Nic, from Jerry’s Rogue Jets, said that I could put Fetch in about 10 miles inland and come downriver to town. He could give me a ride back up to my van as long I was back before 6PM. No time to loose, because it was 2:30 at that time. High tide was at 3 so that was good. I also booked a river trip on a jet boat for the next day, which will take me 52 miles upriver, not only in a hurry but also through some rapids…. If I survive that, you’ll read about that soon.

I drove upriver to the ramp and even though it had a lot of gravel and rocks on it, I went for it. Don’t be chicken now! That Chevy van (RAM 250 with 5.9 liter engine) is a real trooper, because it crawled right back up that ramp no problem. I have to say that the van is doing wonderfully well; strong, quiet, comfortable, all I need in a small package. A fisherman, who was just cutting up a big salmon, warned me about a submerged rock around the bend, other than that I shouldn’t have a problem he reckoned.

 

 

 

 

 

I left the mast down, figuring that I would motor the whole way with that head wind against me. In the past I did a fair amount of white water kayaking, so I was able to read the river and avoid obstacles. Only once did I touch something with the rudder, which kicks up in that case. Where it’s narrower you follow the main stream and avoid eddies. Where it’s wide however and going over shallow areas, it’s a little harder to figure out were to go. At times there were big swirls and I was thrown back and forth. Mostly I went about 7 knots and 10 knots at one time. It was a lot of fun and took about 1.5 hours before I tied up to the dock in Gold Beach. In waiting for my ride back upriver, I had a nice clam chowder and a chicken salad. I had already spotted a small RV park along the river at the other side of the bridge so everything was working out just fine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After my ride (thanks Nic!) and loading Fetch back on the trailer, I plugged in at the RV park and started writing this blog entry. Tomorrow morning at nine we leave on this wild river ride….

 

 

 

I finally got around to making photographs of my sketches:

 

 

 

I hope to do those more frequently and do watercolors as well, stay tuned.