Leaving Home and Arriving Home

We had spent a month cruising South Puget Sound, getting ready for the departure we've talked about, planned about, worried about, checking our boat and ourselves out for the 830 nm journey from Port Townsend to San Francisco. The month was time well spent discovering and fixing problems with things like solar panels (broken wire fixed at anchor), getting used to the navigation software and to the pace and rhythm of traveling again.

I was focused on the safety and seaworthiness of Brigadoon and the care and feeding of her crew. We'd agreed to take a friend along on the offshore  journey -- Patrick had called us and wanted an adventure. He'd never been offshore on a sailboat before.

Patrick, Donn, and Kerry at Siren's in Port Townsend

Our charting and weather software estimated our voyage to be approximately five days.

We left Port Townsend on Thursday morning, September 5th at 11am.  It took 11.5 days, with stops in Port Angeles, Neah Bay and Crescent City, California.

This was to prove our most challenging journey to date.

The trip to Port Angeles was calm and uneventful.  A nice quiet start.  Kerry waved goodbye to her parents as we passed the Point Wilson lighthouse.  The three of us walked into town and enjoyed a nice Italian dinner that evening and went to bed early to be ready to fuel up and leave for Neah Bay the next morning.

An hour out of Port Angeles, the wind was on our nose, we became enveloped in thick fog and the waters started to churn.  We then slowly inched our way to Neah Bay in increasingly foul conditions.  Kerry had to put on the patch and struggled with seasickness.  It took us 14 hours to get to Neah Bay that day.  We entered the unfamiliar harbor in quieter conditions, but at night.  Kerry used our powerful flashlight beam to find our slip as we slowly motored in.  We stayed for two nights so we could rest up.  I changed the oil, discovered our impeller belt needed to be replaced, and made sure everything was in order.

We departed Neah Bay in pea-soup thick fog and motored out the Strait and into the Pacific. Facing calm conditions, and a fog that slowly burned away under the sun, our course took us farther and farther west until we were 100nm offshore. This was to avoid the rougher waters common along the Washington and Oregon Coast and to give us some experience being really out there.

That was an odd part -- the world -- the land -- just going away.

Kerry and I shared the watch schedule - at night, 3 hours on, 3 hours off.  During the day, we played with 4 on and 2 off.  It seemed to work pretty well.  Patrick helped by keeping us company when he was up and doing the lion's share of the cooking and dishes.  Based on our experience on this trip, I know Kerry and I can do this alone when we do our next longer voyage.

First Sunset at sea - September 8, 2019

 And there was no wind, or not enough wind. All the forecasts we studied showed winds of 15-20kts. This would have been perfect for Brigadoon but the winds weren't 15-20kts.  They were more like 6-8kts.

Combine this with the 2-3 meter swells that made sailing well nigh impossible. There wasn't enough wind to keep the sails full and powered up as the swells caused Brigadoon to roll enough to slat the sails and make them useless.

Then there was me, rigging the Asym sail backwards...you'd think I'd learn...

There's always something to learn, some new challenge to figure out while underway. This trip was going to be about engine and fuel management.

Ironically - Kerry and I both used the patch on this trip and Patrick didn't suffer from any discomfort at sea at all.

We were 100nm north of Crescent City when our calculations made it clear that we wouldn't have enough fuel to make it to San Francisco with an adaquate reserve. So, we decided to divert to Crescent City for fuel.

We stayed in Crescent City for two nights also.  Again - rest was needed at this point.  I changed the oil again, we did laundry, took showers, rested.

The final leg to SF was similar -- strong rollers and little wind. Our 4000hr Yanmar engine pushed us along at 5 kts and a quiet(er) 2100 rpm than our usual 2600 rpm. All I had to do was check and top up the engine oil every 24 hours and ensure the fuel filters were flowing and we were good to go.

We spent the last day along the California coast planning our entrance to the Golden Gate and San Francisco Bay. Various guides warned about traffic and current challenges entering the bay. They all cautioned against rounding Point Bonita and crossing under the gate during an ebb tide -- something about heavy currents and rough water (seen this before many times in the Puget Sound).

So we slowed a little and, instead of sailing under the Golden Gate on a beautiful sunset, we had to wait and enter at about 9:30 PM. The ebb was down to about 1.5 kts and I knew we could handle that. It was a rough and bouncy ride anyway, around that point, but as soon as we turned in towards the bridge the point shielded us from the two meter swells that were banging against that current. After I stood at the wheel for over an hour, riding Brigadoon like she was an angry horse trying to toss me off, we finally approached the bridge.

And there we were, crossing under the Golden Gate.

The bay was calm and beautiful as we motored past the Golden Gate, past Fisherman's Wharf and the city, past Treasure Island and under the Bay Bridge and finally into our slip at 11:30 PM.

That was hard. We were beat.

We covered 822 nautical miles in 11 days, with four days at the dock, and 179 hours of motoring that engine.

Alameda is nice. We have a home for a while.

Brigadoon in her slip in Alameda - September 17, 2019

South Sound Cruising and Prepping to Go - August 2019

We hauled the boat out on July 24th to paint the bottom and check her over.  All looked good - we got the painting done and replaced a sea-cock as part of our maintenance.  Splashing back in on July 31st, we headed over to Point Hudson for a couple of nights before heading south toward Olympia for our August South Sound cruise.

We fueled up and anchored in Port Ludlow for our first two nights out.  While there, Donn discovered our solar wasn't working.  He spent an entire afternoon troubleshooting and fixing it. We then pointed our bow toward Port Madison at the north end of Bainbridge Island.  We anchored there for one night and timed our passage the next day to make it through Agate Pass at slack - ending up in Poulsbo, again at anchor, for two nights.

Poulsbo was great - we took advantage of the port's showers and laundry and enjoyed what the town has to offer.  We did have to deal with a potential dinghy thief after docking our dinghy at the Port dock.  I saw him as we pulled our dinghy up and thought it was odd that he was wading (chest high) through the water under the dock ramp.  He climbed up onto the dock and passed us as we walked up to the ramp to go ashore.  We turned to look at him just as he jumped into our dinghy behind us!  Donn brought out his inner cop and told him in no uncertain terms to get out now and what did he think he was doing?  We alerted dock staff and made sure the guy would not go near our boat again.  I'm pretty sure he wasn't all there mentally - but even so - not a comfortable feeling to have your dinghy at risk like that.

On August 7th - we headed to Bell Harbor for a couple of nights and were lucky enough to dock two slips away from Maiden, a 58 ft racing sailboat, famous for being the boat used by the first all women team in the Whitbread around the world race in 1989.  We saw the documentary back in July in Port Townsend and I was so excited to see this boat, which is on a world tour right now and happened to be stopping in Seattle in early August.  I approached a couple of the crew early on Thursday and asked if and when I'd be able to see her more closely and possibly get a tour.  They informed me they weren't having any public tours until later that weekend (after we'd be gone) - so I asked if there was any way I could see it before Friday morning, when we were leaving.  They said they'd try and would let me know.  Thursday, just before noon, they came over and caught my attention and said I could come visit.  So cool!  A beautiful boat and an amazing crew of women on a mission, sailing her around the world.  When I mentioned we were from Port Townsend, one of the crew shared that they were considering stopping there on their way out to San Francisco, which was their next official stop.  I encouraged them to stop in PT and told them they'd have a HUGE welcome there - which is exactly what happened! We also had a lovely visit with my Dad and Step-mom on board Brigadoon that day.
 
We departed Friday morning and headed south to Gig Harbor, where we anchored once more and stayed for two nights.  A highlight was meeting up with an old friend for breakfast on Saturday at Kelly's Cafe.  Afterwards he drove us out to the grocery store and we shopped and caught the Gig Harbor trolley bus back to the harbor.

Tacoma Narrows Bridge

From Gig Harbor, we headed south again and finally crossed under the Tacoma Narrows Bridge – a first for us.  We stayed one night at anchor in Filucy Bay near Longbranch and then three beautiful nights on a mooring in Jerrell Cove.  On Thursday, August 15^th – we motored down to Swantown Marina in Olympia.  

Jerrell Cove

Olympia was lovely.  We stayed five nights – took lots of walks, ate some good food, enjoyed a one night showing of The Matrix at the local downtown cinema, and spent time with a fellow sailor – Jim, who we’d met during our first winter in Point Hudson.

Leaving Olympia on August 20, we worked our way up to Oro bay – where we spent two quiet nights at anchor.  The morning we were supposed to catch the slack tide under the Narrows and head to Foss Harbor Marina in Tacoma we discovered our anchor didn’t want to come back up to us.  We were doing our usual routine - headsets on, I was at the wheel and Donn was at the bow managing the anchor retrieval.  All the chain was back on board except for the 20+ feet from our bow straight down to the anchor below.  This is when the anchor usually pops out and we slowly bring it up as I keep us steady in place or start to creep out of the anchorage.  Well that wasn’t happening.  Donn asked me to put it in gear in an effort to use the boat’s forward momentum as leverage.  No luck.  In fact, the bow just got pulled lower the more we tried to budge it.  This process continued for several minutes.  Then Donn grabbed the buoy line (our anchor retrieval line we attach to a small float) and brought it back to the cockpit.  He wound it around our larger port side winch and started cranking.  Using this as a trip line now put the anchor at the bottom of a triangle – with the winch on one corner and the bow at the other.  By working at it from both angles, we were finally able to trip it and bring it up.  We still have no idea what it was stuck on, but we made it under the Narrows just in time before the tide turned on us.

Foss Harbor had been our home for a year and a half in 2015-16.  For this visit we had been given a slip close to the office – the innermost slip on D dock, and as we turned into the fairway, I was standing at the bow keeping a lookout for our slip as I always do.  We were about halfway down the fairway when I realized our slip wasn’t empty.  I called back to Donn to let him know.  And then things got interesting…   Our boat is 42 feet overall.  The fairway we were in was 55 feet wide.  Since Brigadoon doesn’t back up worth a damn, Donn now had to "back and fill" turn her around in that much space.  Fortunately, we didn’t have much wind to speak of and he managed to maneuver us back out and into a temporary slip at the fuel dock.  The offending boat finally left an hour or so later and we were able to dock with no further issues.  Our stay at Foss Harbor was wonderful – caught up with several old friends and enjoyed an outdoor movie (The Goonies) as part of Foss’ outdoor movie series.  

Sunday, August 25^th we headed north again and decided to stop by the Blake Island Marina to see if there might be space.  This marina is notoriously busy in the summers and it’s a bit small. And… we got lucky!  We snagged a nice spot at the end of the dock and settled in for a quiet two night stay.  We enjoyed ice cream from the park ranger’s office store and a few nice walks.  

That luck changed when Donn lost his beautiful (and expensive) prescription sunglasses overboard while working at the edge of the cockpit while we were docked.  He had loosened the boom and was reaching up to work on something. A gust came up and the boom came toward him – his glasses got knocked off and he held on as he watched them disappear into the dark water between us and the dock.  The tide was up at that point, but he tried to dredge for them with our net on a long pole.  That failed, but the next morning he decided to put on his wetsuit and go in at low tide to try to look for them.  No dice – the glasses were gone.  Lesson learned?  ALWAYS wear glasses tethers when moving about the boat.

From Blake Island we hopped up to Eagle Harbor on Bainbridge Island and found a nice spot on the city dock for the night.  We had a lovely dinner with sailing friends in town.  This is definitely a nice spot to stay that gives you access to Bainbridge Island and the ferry to Seattle.

Wednesday, August 28 we departed Eagle Harbor with the promise of a nice breeze from the north for our hop across the Sound to Bell Harbor.  We had a wonderful sail!  Took our time and sailed pretty much a straight shot across.  We had planned to sit in Bell Harbor one last time so I could hop a ferry to Bremerton and teach a session at a Women’s retreat on Friday, August 30.  While there, we enjoyed dinner at my sister and brother-in-law’s home, caught up with more friends, ate really good fudge, and Donn finished one of the most appreciated projects in our salon.

We had discussed creating a “pit” on the port side where the short settee and table were.  This involved putting the table in its “away” position against the bulkhead and building a platform extension for the settee.  This would not only give us a nice large sitting/lounging area but would also create more storage underneath for heavier items like our watermaker and sewing machine.  I ordered up the foam to put on top and Donn finished building it while I was at the retreat.  It has proven to be extremely useful and comfortable.

Our final push back to Port Townsend where we would prep for the big trip down the coast included a one night stay at Port Ludlow where we enjoyed a nice dinner at the Fireside.  We arrived back at Point Hudson on Monday – Labor Day.  Our departure was scheduled for Thursday morning.  Three nights to prep the boat, get crew settled, and provision – not to mention saying goodbye to family and friends for the last time before leaving Washington State.

Docked at Point Hudson - prepped for departure

August was exactly what we had needed.  It was a wonderful trip full of adventures, tests, and fun.

The "Outer Passage"

Written by: Kerry

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

- Robert Frost (The Road Not Taken) 1920

Brigadoon at the dock in Shearwater, BC, with bald eagle.

We left Shearwater on Saturday, June 24th, having done lots of research about our next leg of the trip that would bring us up to Prince Rupert, the typical jumping off point for Alaskan waters.  We had expected to plan and take the more inside route, also known as the "Inside Passage", which follows more protected waters and is used by the BC ferries, many cruise ships, tugs, and most cruisers.  We looked it over closely and weren't majorly impressed with the choice of anchorages - both for distance between them and for depths.  I have no doubt the passages are beautiful and protected, but then we started to look at other options...

From Seaforth Channel into Milbanke Sound, we looked at how to get around Price Island and continue north without going up to Klemtu and the inside waters.  We decided to go to Louisa Cove for our first night out to see what Milbanke was like and make our final decisions on which direction to go, with the primary thought to continue on to Aristazabal Island the following day assuming we weren't too freaked out by the more open water.  Well if you look at the lowest black dot on the map above, that is Louisa Cove - and you'll notice we didn't stop there at all.  Here's what happened...

We were cruising out of Seaforth Channel and I casually brought up the idea of not stopping at Louisa at all, but going straight on to our first anchorage at Aristazabal, Wheeteeam Bay.  Donn pondered that and told me he'd think about it.  It seemed like a beautiful day and the conditions seemed mellow enough to try, so we continued to talk about it and as we broke out into Milbanke, we adjusted the route on the chart and steamed through to Wheeteeam.  The most remarkable moment of that day's journey was going through Catala Passage at the bottom of Price Island.  It's usually more protected waters and gives one a slight shortcut through to Laredo Sound.

  As you can see above, it also requires careful navigation around many islets and rocks.  We were both on point watching our way as we motored through.  It was stunning scenery, almost ghostly with mists and rock formations all around us.  Unfortunately no photos were taken, as we were so focused on staying safe...

Instead of a 4-5 hour day, we had about a 10 hour day when all was said and done, but we had left early and arrived with plenty of daylight remaining, finding a beautiful place to anchor.  We ended up staying there for 2 nights to give ourselves time to recover and also explore the beautiful bay with its endless coves and inlets.  It was truly stunning.

Low tidal flat in Wheeteeam Bay

When we left Wheeteeam Bay we continued our way north with the next target anchorage at the top of Aristazabal Island - Tate Cove in Borrowman Bay.  This stop ended up being one of our most rewarding and fun of the entire trip.  We arrived on a Monday afternoon and stayed until Thursday morning to wait out strong forecast winds.

Monday evening, as another boat pulled in and anchored near us, we realized we were looking at another Baba - little sister to our boat - a Baba 30.  The best part though?  Their boat's name was "Camelot".  Two Babas in the same cove is good enough, but two Babas with names like "Brigadoon" and "Camelot"?  How awesome is that???   Two boats named after mythical places, both told as musicals. I didn't stop giggling about it all week.

Camelot - Doug and John on their way to Haida Gwaii to meet up with their wives

On Tuesday, we went nosing about in the dinghy...  The cove next to us had a huge floating fishing lodge set up on a barge with multiple ties to shore and dock space for a small sport fishing fleet.  As we came close, they (nicely) warned us away from their dock, as they were expecting a helicopter landing any minute.  We dutifully left and did not return to bother them.  However, as we were leaving, another skiff with a driver and a black dog in the bow came up to us and invited us over to stretch out legs later if we wanted.  It was then we realized there was ANOTHER floating structure behind the lodge.  This turned out to be the home of Rick and Jeanne Beaver and their dog, Skipper.

Home of Rick and Jeanne Beaver

They are a retired couple who started creating this little floating homestead about 14 years ago.  They live here year round and use everything around them - most of their docks and structures were all built from found wood drifted up on the beach.  They create art and tend gardens in boxes and a little green house in back.  The little wood hut at the far left is a wood fired hot tub.  They welcomed us with open arms and a bit later Doug and John from "Camelot" showed up in their kayaks and we all hung out for awhile.  Jeanne and I had a great time sharing stories and getting to know each other while the guys all checked out Rick's various projects outside.  When it came time to head back to the boat, Jeanne piped up and said "Hey! Let's all get together tomorrow evening for a potluck!"  We all loved the idea, decided what we would each bring and bid adieu with promises of more fun the next day.

I spent the next day reading and relaxing on the boat.  Donn went for a hike on his own and then later got picked up by Rick in his skiff with the other two guys (and Skipper) and taken on a tour of the nearby islets and beaches (I stayed behind because I was enjoying my book too much).  We all convened around 6pm and had a lovely evening in the Beavers' home.  I convinced Donn to bring his guitar to entertain after dinner and it was a huge hit.  They loved his music and even suggested he check with a local hotel lounge in Prince Rupert about playing there when we arrived.  It was hard to say goodbye - but we decided we could easily stop there again on the way home - so we hope to see them again soon.

One of Jeanne's gardens, with Skipper in the background

Doug, John, Me, Donn, Jeanne, and Rick

We had plotted out our next stops between Aristazabal Island and Prince Rupert and each one went as planned.  We stayed a night in Weinberg Inlet on Campania Island, which was stunning.

Mount Pender on Campania Island

Then we stayed two nights in Patterson Inlet on Pitt Island due to heavy rain.  We woke up the first morning, knowing we had planned to leave around 10 or 11am.  We listened from our bunk as the rain poured down onto the deck and looked at each other and decided we could afford another day in this beautiful place and not brave the rain just yet.

We left Patterson and headed for Newcombe Harbour inside of Petrel channel, out last stop before a long day to Prince Rupert.  We enjoyed a little sailing that day, although the winds were light.  As we rounded into the channel for Newcombe Harbour, the winds picked up, with rain threatening to douse us.  Donn got two photos as we headed in...

Bald Eagle flying off a perch inside Newcombe Harbour

Newcombe Harbour was tricky, as our ideal anchorage depth was located in a trough in the middle of shallow mud flats.  Water covered it all, so except for our charting software, we had no idea of where those shallows started.  I inched our way in and watched the depth sounder.  As I got a little too close for comfort, I started to turn up into the wind to find a good spot and saw depths as low as 13 feet cross beneath us.  We safely anchored in about 34 feet a little ways out as a huge gust of wind blew us sideways hard, setting our anchor perfectly with the rain letting loose on us all at the same time.  As the rain died down that evening, Donn noted that he could hear multiple rivers and waterfalls around us as we sat there in the middle of the little bay.  This is another spot we hope to visit on our way back, hopefully with nicer weather.

Our final leg to Prince Rupert was about 10 hours - we left at 4:30am to catch Petrel Narrows at low water slack and everything was smooth as we glided through.  I sat in the bow to watch for logs in the early morning light and marveled at the beautiful scenery around us.  Simply gorgeous and so humbling.  We both remarked how happy we were to have taken the outer passage.  We barely saw any other boat traffic under way and never shared an anchorage with more than 1-2 boats.  The conditions were benign, we barely had enough wind to sail, and only did so about 1/4 of the way.  As we plan our return, we'll take this option again - no doubt in our minds.

Speed. There are many kinds...

I sometimes answer questions on facebook and realized some of them might be useful to share here.

For example, in the photo above, we are making a whopping 1.8 knots. That is GPS, or actual speed. Water speed was about 5 knots.

There are different kinds of speed indicators for your boat.

Knowing the difference is useful when you are dealing with currents, be they caused by rivers, tides or wind.

Boat speed in water is the actual speed that the water is passing by the sensor and the actual speed your boat is making though the water. This is a combination of your boat progress and any currents. Those currents can add speed or take it away. One knot current against you will show the same water speed because your boat is moving though the water, and water is flowing past the hull.

GPS speed is measured against the surface of the earth. It is the actual speed, actual progress, you are making over the earth. It's your true speed.

If you are directly facing a one knot current and are showing five knots of water speed, your true speed would be about four knots.

If you are facing a five knot current, in a five knot boat, your true speed can be zero.

This is why it's useful to know the difference between the two numbers. They can tell you a lot about your surroundings.

Remember, your water speed is relative. The sum of your water speed and currents is your actual speed.

When opportunity knocks….

A Post from Kerry (First Mate, SV Brigadoon)

Last February I was attending the Annual Women’s Boating Seminar being held on the North Seattle Community College campus.  It’s a wonderful day full of seminars and talks about boating – both sail and power.  For women, by women.  A great chance to chat up fellow female boaters and learn a few things.  It wasn’t my first time attending, and at this point I’ve been around enough boat shows and seminars in the last four years that I’m starting to get on a first name basis with some of the region’s most inspiring female boaters.  At lunch I found myself sitting around a table with many of the speakers from the day – Wendy Hinman, Judy Nasmith (who also organizes this fun event), Nancy Erley, and Linda Lewis.  All women I’d seen speak before – full of knowledge, experience, and a lot of passion for being on the water.  Later in the afternoon, Linda approached me between sessions and casually asked if I had any extra vacation time to use up this summer.  I smiled and told her that yes, actually, there was a chance I might have some extra time I could use….  “Why?”  She said she was planning to take her annual trip up to the Broughton Islands and was looking for crew – would I be interested?  My first instinct was to step back and tell her that I couldn’t possibly take the time off necessary to go with her, but then I thought better of it and just said that I’d love to chat more about it when she was ready to start planning out her trip. 

Four months went by and I completely forgot about this conversation.  Then I got her phone call.  Linda called me in June and told me she was starting to put together her roster and itinerary and did I still have time off I could use?  I said I’d have to talk to my managers and Donn, but that yes, it was possible.   We narrowed it down to a vague time frame and I told her I’d get back to her in a day or so.  As I checked at work and with Donn, I was met with complete support and excitement for me to go on an adventure.  When all was said and done, Linda and I agreed that I would fly up to Blind Channel, meet her as she was making her way back south at the end of August, and crew for her for seven days, ending up in Anacortes on Labor Day if all went well.  As we chatted on the phone about the logistics, I asked “who else will be on the boat?” – She replied that it would just be her and me. 

Captain Linda Lewis teaches boating.  She teaches navigation classes through the Coast Guard Auxiliary, which is how I met her in the first place.  I knew that this opportunity would afford me some amazing one on one time, with her, on her boat, learning about new waters and soaking in everything I could in seven days.  The weeks went by as I waited for the day I was to fly out on a float plane from Kenmore Air on Lake Washington.  The morning of August 25^th was beautiful.  Donn dropped me off at the docks and we parted ways.  I was nervous and excited – having never been on a float plane before.

We landed in Nanaimo as we made our way north, so we could check in to Canada, and the pilot could refuel.  Taking off again, the pilot informed me we’d be in Blind Channel in about 45 minutes.  I can’t express how beautiful the world below looked.  I followed on the rudimentary map they provide, as I picked out which islands were which as we glided over them.  Tiny specks of boats were below me, making their way north or south, through the Strait of Georgia.  I knew that’d be us soon enough.

I realized we were now flying over the island just south of Blind Channel – East Thurlow Island.  The hills full of trees were getting closer as the small plane followed the curves of the land down to the channel below, making another smooth landing.  We snugged up to the dock, I grabbed my bags and stepped off to find Linda waiting for me with a big smile on her face. 

She led me back to her 45 foot trawler – “Royal Sounder”.   A 1978 KhaShing power boat.  She’s got classic lines and a beautiful bow.  Linda and her husband have maintained her beautifully and she really is a comfortable and sturdy vessel.  Linda showed me around, showed me where I’d be sleeping and where I could stow my belongings.  She pointed out a few things that we’d get more in depth on later.  Then as we stepped out on the deck to head up to land for lunch, a couple on one of the neighboring boats told us to look out in the channel.  A small pod of orcas were swimming through.  I’m pretty sure I saw at least one adult and two babies – my first sighting of whales in the wild ever!  I figured it was a good sign to be welcomed so warmly by the orcas just after arriving.  J

After a nice lunch and some texts to Donn to let him know I’d arrived safely, we headed back to the boat.  We discussed our route for the next day.  We had a bit of a dilemma because of the currents the next morning.  As we talked over our options, I felt a strong pull to head east towards Dent Rapids.  It seemed like a more interesting choice.  She agreed with me, but also acknowledged that we couldn’t make it to Dent in time for slack from where we were, even if we left at first light.  So the decision was made to make it a short trip to Shoal Bay, leaving around 9:30 or 10, catching the current east and easily reaching Shoal Bay before Noon.  We would then proceed through Dent and the other passes the following day, easily accomplished from the closer location.  Then Linda started explaining in more detail what our respective roles would be around docking, anchoring, and while underway.  Her processes were detailed, clear, and very thorough.  I knew I was in good hands.

We awoke early – she whispered down to me to see if I was awake yet and asked if I wanted to see something amazing.  I hopped up quickly and went out on deck to see one of the most beautiful sunrises I’ve ever witnessed (photo above!).  As the pace of the city started to fade away a bit, I began to truly breathe in the beauty and quiet around me.  It was gorgeous up there.

As she had shown me the night before, I got the lines ready for departure.  In Canada, most of the docks use “bull rails” and not cleats as we’re used to in the States.  I had used bull rails before, but not often and hadn’t yet mastered a good process.  That was about to change.  In seven days, I learned, struggled and somewhat conquered bull rails and how best to work the lines around them when docking and departing.   I think we had conversations almost every single day while we were under way about techniques and tricks on how best to work with them.  Cleats are like a walk in the park now!

Another cool tool she uses is headsets.  These are AWESOME!  Donn had reconfigured some motorcycle headsets for use on our boat, but we hadn’t had a chance to use them yet.  On this trip I learned just how much they can help keep things calm, and organized.  So we had on our headsets, she was at the helm, and I was on the boat ready to release the lines.  Everything went smoothly as we pulled away from the dock.  Then we switched places.  I manned the helm as she went outside to release the skiff away from the boat’s port side hip and back behind to the end of the towing line, where it stayed while underway.

Dock at Shoal Bay

Shoal Bay was beautiful and quiet.  A small community of volunteers run a small pub out of a living room and maintain a garden and a chicken coop.  For a donation you can garden a bit, harvest a few things, and possibly get a few eggs if you so desire.  We wandered, then headed back for the daily happy hour on board.  These were some of my favorite times – we’d sit back, we’d each have one beverage of choice, along with a few snacks and just talk.  This was our first chance to really get to know each other, as we’d never spent time together outside of a boating class.  As the days wore on we laughed a LOT and were delighted with how many things we seemed to have in common.

The next day we timed our departure to catch Dent Rapids at slack.  She made sure I was at the helm, so she could get the requisite photo of me yawning through the boring waterway, which only a few hours before had been running at 9 knots.  Gillard Pass and Yaculta Rapids were equally as exciting.  We made our way to Von Donop Inlet where we had decided to spend the night at anchor.  As we eased in to the Inlet, following two other boats, we worried it might be crowded.  We made it to a wonderful spot where other boats had settled in, but where there was still plenty of room.  I was at the helm, with Linda at the bow looking for just the right spot.  I read out depths to her as we circled around slowly like a cat picking its spot in the sun.  She directed me at the helm as she lowered the anchor.  Soon enough we were dug in and ready to relax for the rest of the afternoon and evening.  It was warm out and I was so tempted to get my bathing suit on and go for a swim, but she dissuaded me with a warning about the coldness of the water.  I grabbed a PFD and tether and climbed down to the swim step.  Rolling up my pants, I stuck my feet in the water.  It was cold, but felt so good.  I stayed down there a while, just lying on the swim step, looking up at clouds quietly drifting by.  Being at anchor, especially in a protected, quiet anchorage, is incredibly peaceful.  I slept well, knowing we’d be up with the sun again to get underway by 6:30am.

Westview Marina - looking back at the entrance

The next day brought us closer to civilization.  We made it to the Westview Marina, near Powell River on the BC mainland.  After docking and getting the boat squared away, I headed up in search of a shower and a chance to walk around a bit.  Later that night we found a great Italian restaurant “Snickers”.  We were craving pizza and each ordered our own personal pizzas.  I went on to amaze Linda with my ability to put away food.  This became a running joke for the rest of the trip….   

Another early departure started us off on our longest day of the week.  We had hit a perfect weather window to cross the Strait of Georgia and head to Nanaimo.  We maintained a shift schedule of one hour on, one hour off.  It was a long day, with waves coming at us from the north as we crossed SW, but they never got too strong and we maintained an excellent course.   I think we made it in about six and half hours.

Each day of the journey I learned more about the various instruments and tools at the helm and how I could best use them to help make decisions about other boats, our course, etc.  We were using the autopilot much of the time, which was nice.  I kept watch by looking outside, then glancing at the radar, and then at our course on the navigation software on her laptop.  I learned how best to use the radar to determine whether other boats around us posed a threat if they were heading our direction.  So simple, but so effective – and reassuring.

Radar shot while at anchor in Monague Harbor

We arrived in Nanaimo tired and the docking process ended up being a touch stressful, with a strong current pushing us away from the dock and a marina employee who was less than helpful.  But we managed to get tied up safely and settled in.  I realized that after such a long day I needed some alone time, so I bid Linda adieu and headed out in search of a shower and some comfort food.  I also allowed myself to call Donn for the first time since leaving.  Up until then we had texted at least once or twice a day when I had cell coverage.  By the time I got back to the boat in the early evening, I felt more rested and relaxed.  Linda showed up a little while later and we enjoyed another nice evening talking and sharing stories.

The next morning we left on the early side to make it to another pass at slack time.   Once again I was at the helm as we made our way slowly through Dodd Narrows.  Then it was a straight shot down to Montague Harbor where we anchored for our second time, surrounded by boats enjoying the end of the summer.  It was Saturday of Labor Day weekend.  Once we had anchored securely, we realized we had a nice quiet afternoon stretching in front of us.  We separated to our respective berths.  I napped, watched a movie I had downloaded onto my Kindle Fire for the trip, and read a bit.  It rained off and on and created an incredibly cozy day.  There was no doubt in my mind – I was in love with this life on the water and I couldn’t wait to come back up here with Donn on our own boat.

Sunday brought us back into the US, where we checked in at Roche Harbor and anchored close by in Garrison Bay.  Then we hopped into Linda’s 17 foot skiff, built by her husband, and motored back to Roche to get some ice cream and check out the sights.  I went on walkabout and explored the Sculpture Park and the Mausoleum.  It’s a beautiful place, and being Labor Day weekend, the marina itself was packed with boats.   We headed back to the boat before sunset, had a nice final dinner together and went to bed early, ready for another early morning to head out on our last leg to Anacortes.

Grinning like a cheshire cat as we glide through Pole Pass

Monday’s trip to Anacortes stared off with the sun shining directly at us from the sky and the water.  It was blinding and I wasn’t quite sure how to keep watch.  I used my sunglasses when looking out and then pushed them down my nose when I needed to see the instruments.  An hour or so in, we changed direction just enough to change the angles for the better.  One more pass – Pole Pass on the south end of Orcas Island and then we were home free.  We made it to the dock at Anacortes by 11:30am with Donn waiting for us at the dock, ready to catch our lines.  It was a pretty awesome way to arrive back to the mainland.

Happy Reunion!

Overall we had amazing weather and for the most part were able to use currents to our advantage.  We kept our speeds between six and eight knots for the most part.  I worked hard, relaxed deeply, and truly enjoyed getting to know Linda better in the seven days we were together.  I also came home with a list of ideas and processes I hope to adapt for us and our boat.  Some of these include docking practices, others include timing of keeping watch and manning the helm.  I think the most valuable thing I brought home with me was a sense of inspiration and accomplishment.  I feel empowered and capable in ways I haven’t before.

It’s been two weeks since my return.  This past weekend, I suggested we take our boat out into the lake early on Sunday morning so I could practice docking at Ivar’s dock just east of Gasworks.  No other boats around and hardly a whisper of wind – perfect conditions.  We used our headsets, I was at the helm the entire time.  Donn talked me through departure from our dock and then docking and undocking at Ivar’s.  Then we came home and I docked at our own dock, which has its own challenges.  I glanced our pulpit off of one of the posts that stick up from our dock, but otherwise, nothing damaged, and no one hurt.  All good.  After four years, I finally got up the courage to dock my own boat.  And that’s huge. 

Many thanks to Linda for the opportunity to join her, the encouragement, and the wonderful fellowship.