February 2000
Disappointed that my February get-away from Bellingham Washington to sunny and warm Arizona fell through at the last minute I instead decided to celebrate the anniversary of my boat purchase and adventurous maiden voyage last February on my Columbia 26 mk II, "Freight Train". A Wednesday shakedown sail with fellow Columbia owner Dennis showed me a number of things including that the spinnaker wasn’t too hard to fly shorthanded, that the outboard wasn’t too reliable and that the boat maneuvers very well in close quarters as we had to short-tack up the narrow basin and sail into the tucked-away slip. What I didn’t know was that all these lessons would come into play in the coming days!
The weatherman was predicting unseasonably sunny and warm weather for the next few days and I had arranged the time off for my trip south so I decided to sail out to the San Juan’s singlehanded, if the outboard would run! Arranging it all meant I didn’t get an early start on Thursday, leaving the harbor at 1:30 with trusty dinghy in tow, but the outboard did start on the third pull. My plan was to head to Sucia Island 18 miles NW, which some say is the jewel of the entire San Juan’s. This probably meant motoring a lot as winds were predicted to be light, but what a joy to be finally underway on a cruise by myself for the first time on my boat!
Motorsailing toward Lummi Island on this warm sunny day one wouldn’t think this was February if it weren’t for the fact that I was about the only boat out on Bellingham bay! Life couldn’t feel better as I eagerly anticipated the adventure to come, that is until the outboard quit suddenly about 20 minutes out and wouldn’t restart! I surveyed my situation and it didn’t look too good. This was February in the Northwest, I was alone and had no engine, but I decided to make the most of what was available and just make do, even if that meant not going very far, after all I had a good weather forecast and a full moon to boot!
I held course and made good time on a beam reach out to Lummi Is. thinking about the possible anchorages in the unusual northeasterly winds. This meant that the favored Inati Bay would not be good, especially because it’s a little tight to sail off the anchor and out. I sailed through the more open Reil Harbor, just south of Inati and it looked good so I tacked back around to sound the bottom with my lead line and found 35’ in my chosen spot. I tacked out again to make my anchoring run was able to get it down and stuck successfully on the first try. I started my diesel heater, tidied up and made a big pot of soup so I’d have some easy food to heat up later. The smog-like haze hanging over Bellingham told me I’d probably have a calm night. Even so I took off the big genoa, hanked on the working jib and carefully arranged the sails to raise in a moment’s notice if necessary. After watching the moonrise and having an intimate candlelight dinner with myself I got out the current atlas and charts to decide my options, happy that I remembered to update the tables and buy some new charts. Perhaps optimistically I decided that Sucia Island may still be attainable if I could get the outboard started in the morning, thinking that it might have quit because of air starvation running it hard in it’s semi-enclosed box. The problem was that the tides were extreme because of the full moon and the current would be against me in the morning heading up Hale passage. I fell asleep feeling better about the situation, though.
Friday arrived sunny and while waiting for the tide to shift I attempted to start the outboard and being cold it started right up! (there’s some previous history with this motor about this) So away I went up Hale Passage as far as I could before it might quit again! I blocked up the engine box and opened up all the access doors thinking it might help feed the motor better air. It’s a good thing I had it running because it was unusually glassy smooth as far north as I could see. I tried to contain my excitement as the motor ran strong for an hour, taking me most of the way up the passage. I then began to feel something was wrong with the engine even though I couldn’t yet sense what. I shortly heard a rattling sound coming from it and getting louder! I throttled it up and down and heard a distinctive loud noise sounding like a gearbox (lower unit) problem. This was something totally different than the previous problem and definitely terminal. I knew I had only minutes of running time left so I shut it down to save it for last ditch emergency use if I needed it.
The more immediate problem now was that the current was shortly going to set me into the Lummi Island ferry path so I had to do something quick! I looked north and saw a strong wind line just on the other side of Lane Spit about ¾ of a mile away. I would finally get to try something I had been thinking about as I got out the dinghy oars and tied my spinnaker sheets together to make a long warp off the bow. I tied off the tiller and jumped in the dinghy and started towing Freight Train! I knew it would take a while to get it moving but I was able to make about 1-2 knots and settled in to a rhythm I could hold for a while, not wanting to stop and lose the momentum I had gained. I watched the shore move past as I rowed for a half-hour thinking about how they used to warp big Frigates and Ships-of-the-Line into battle in calm weather back in the days of fighting sail. This was easy compared to that! I made the point and sure enough there was wind so I quit and re-boarded my boat and raised sail. A good breeze it was, too, as I made about 5 knots on a tight reach to clear the north end of Lummi putting me back on schedule for Sucia.
My excitement waned again though as the wind slowly dropped, and even though I changed to the genoa my speed dropped to 1 to 2 knots and the wind shifted and I couldn’t lay my course any longer. For the next 4 hours I carefully worked the light breeze, tacking numerous times and got to within 1 mile of Sucia before the wind died altogether. The sun set on one side of me and the moon rose on the other as I got my dinghy warping gear together again! As warm as it got during the day, when the sun went down it got quite cold. I thought a good row would at least keep me warm! Well, the rowing trick worked again but in a completely different manner, this time. I must have been quite a sight from Fossil Bay as I shortly saw a sailboat heading out towards me. They hailed me and asked me if I wanted a tow, and as self-sufficient as I wanted to be I gladly accepted! Once in the harbor they cast me off and I coasted up to a mooring bouy near the entrance to more easily sail out. Sure enough the next day was sunny and warm and I explored this most amazing Island group by dinghy and hiking.
That evening thinking about my departure the next day I consulted the current atlas and found the only favorable currents to be from 6-8 am to clear Sucia to the southeast, and from 9-12 to make it down the west side of Lummi. This meant sailing out of the narrow harbor in the dark, if there was any wind. The forecast was still holding for warm and sunny weather, meaning little wind was likely. Just in case I set the alarm for 4:30 am and as I went up on deck to take one last look before retiring, a group of 10 or so Great Blue Herons circled around Freight Train squawking their prehistoric-sounding calls in the moonlight! I awoke at 3 am to the sound of my halyards slapping the mast from a good breeze so I got up to get ready to go! As usual I made a hearty breakfast and made a thermos of tea for later but wouldn’t you know I ran out of water in the main tank and had to transfer from the extra jerry cans in the stern and then the foot water pump came apart and I had to take it out and apart to fix. Better to do this on the mooring rather than at sea, I thought, but it put me a bit behind on my departure time.
I dropped the bouy at 6:15 and was out of the harbor on 4 short tacks as the last of the full moon showed me the way. Outside I was able to lay my course to weather down between Barnes Is. and Orcas Is. as a beautiful sunrise and moonset made up for the cold morning, but I did burn all the hair off my hands trying to warm them over my alcohol stove! I made good time as the boat sailed itself better than I could in the moderate breeze going to weather. An hour after dropping the mooring the wind once again died, but I had caught the gift of the morning breeze to get me away from Sucia. I shifted to the genoa again and played the very light shifty wind, which combined with the current set, was getting me along well enough to make it to the south tip of Lummi before the tide changed around noon. The few clouds trying to obscure the sun burned off creating another warm and calm day, and I wasn’t about to complain!
As I approached the south tip of Lummi I didn’t know I was about to have an experience that put my whole voyage in perspective. I noticed that the shore looked interesting here and had heard that it could be a useful anchorage in NE winds. I reached up and approached to within just a few yards and drifted slowly south on the current at about ½ knot. With the warm sun at my back it was wonderful and relaxing as I sat there thoroughly exploring rock formations and twisted trees, while listening to the bird calls and lapping water echo off the cliffs like sensurround! After a while, being transfixed by the experience, I was filled by a overwhelming feeling of awe and beauty, not just by the scene in front of me but by the profoundness of life itself! I felt a deep spiritual connection to this whole event and all other cares vanished while tears filled my eyes. As I drifted past two eagles sitting in a tree overhanging the water, one took off and flew past my bow and while I watched it approach a nearby island 2 dolphins broke the surface underneath it! What a way to end my voyage! As I drifted to the island tip I realized just how much a gift it was to do this voyage without a motor. By slowing down and having to immerse myself in all the elements to get somewhere, I feel I enabled myself to fully appreciate this incredible place at a deeper level.
But this was not to be the near-end of the trip. As I was now able to see east of Lummi up into Bellingham Bay, I could see nothing but glassy smooth water the rest of the 7 miles home. And I thought the wind was light on the west side of the Island where at least there was some wind ripples on the water! After the experience I was just having I had to grin while I got out the current tables to see where I could get for the evening, and listened to the forecast to find one more good day of weather awaiting me! Well, there was only one direction I could head where currents would assist me for a while and that was southwest toward Eagle Harbor on Cypress Island, about 6 miles away. Alternating between drifting and sailing at 1 to 2 knots I managed to weave through the Cone Islands and successfully lead-lined the depth and anchored in one pass behind the jutting cliff of Eagle Harbor with enough time to explore by dinghy and hiking before dark. The weather had now turned unsettled with high clouds and the forecast was for rain and southerly winds to begin the next day, which was perfect to take me north into Bellingham Bay and home. Checking the currents for the next day I found 2 to 3 knots against me, however, from morning until noon, so I needed a good breeze for me to attempt starting in the morning. It rained all that night but the winds were still calm.
I slept 10 hours that night, finally making up for all the rowing, I guess, and the next morning was calm so there was no hurry to leave. By 11am the breeze had come up, and from the South, finally! I was now the only boat in the anchorage and the clouds were lifting creating that magical appearance of the trees themselves steaming up into the clouds while I heard eagles call in the distance and watched fish jump around the boat. I allowed that "majestic" feeling to envelop me again as I bid farewell to the islands and started pulling the anchor. As usual I got just clear of the island when the wind dropped again, so I changed to the genoa. Although I was making 2 to 3 knots now I was apparently making no speed over the bottom as Cone Is. wasn’t getting any smaller behind me! With visions of once again running out of wind short of home I thought of my options. I was on a beam reach in about 5 knots of wind and I have the perfect sail for that, the spinnaker of course! This would be the perfect capper for this trip if I could pull it off. So I rigged it all up and re-packed the sail figuring if it was still OK when I was ready with it I’d do it. Well, the wind actually hauled aft a bit so I took that as a sign to go ahead. The chute went up without a hitch behind the genoa and didn’t fill till I lowered the headsail. It popped open perfectly and off we went gaining 2+ knots of speed!
Now I had my hands full though as I couldn’t leave the helm for longer than a few seconds, but I had anticipated this and had everything I could want within reach. The trick now was to reach over the top of Lummi Is. to port and then bear off to clear Eliza Is. to starboard without having to gibe, which I definitely wasn’t going to try. I made sure I didn’t cut close to anything to leeward for safety, but the wind was increasing and back on the beam! A couple of times I had to steer low to avoid a possible round-up in the gusts but then the wind dropped allowing me to head back on course again. I cleared Lummi with plenty of room and was able to clear Eliza on a broad reach and now was on course for home on a broad reach, at times storming along at hull speed! I was able to carry on all the way to the Post Pt. Bouy off Fairhaven before the wind dropped at about 3:30 pm. A light rain started falling, the first I had (during the day) in 5 days and I put my foulies on, also for the first time! I made it to within a mile of the harbor entrance before the wet spinnaker wouldn’t fill any longer, but it did make it easy to take down. What a difference that sail made coming home!
Now there wasn’t a drop of wind and it would be dark in 1½ hours, so once again I rigged the towing gear but before I got into the dinghy the wind filled in from the north directly out of the harbor entrance. I rigged all my fenders and dock lines and changed again to the working jib to make short tacking into the harbor easier and I went in without a problem, making it in only 3 tacks. Now I had a tough choice. I could attempt sailing into the slip but to do that would require dropping sail on the way in the 1¼ boat-length wide channel while making a radical 120 degree turn with exactly the right boat speed. Right at dusk I chose discretion and instead just easily tied up to the guest dock outside my tight slip area and called my sailing friend Dennis to help me do it the next morning. After such an incredible voyage it seemed folly to risk an accident to ruin it all.
What a trip!! The next morning after bringing the boat into the slip I took myself to breakfast and opened one of the sailing mags and the first thing I read was: "Autopilots, VHS, radios, GPS, depth/fishfinders, radar,-where would boating be without electronics? These basic electronics help make the sport of boating both practical and safe. It would be hard to imagine boating without the benefits of these electronic instruments." I just got a big grin and said to myself "how about none of that and not even an engine!" It’s hard to imagine having a more successful trip than I just had!