January 2003
Winter can be the best time of year for sailing in the Northwest, especially the San Juan and Gulf Islands where safe havens and warm, friendly facilities are close by. But for a true sailor the attractions may be a bit different. The warm, sunny summer weather here can very nice but frustrating for the sailing purist with its frequent lack of winds, crowded and wake chopped waters and full anchorages. I have made it a point of getting out every winter in my little Columbia 26 MKII "Shariyat" for at least a bit of a cruise and these times have been my most rewarding and memorable adventures. (See 2 previous 48 North articles) This January trip was a quick and simple one-Sidney BC to Bellingham and back, but I took 4 travel days to do it. This way I would not be in a hurry which allowed me to time to sail, even if it meant making only 2 or 3 knots, spending the night in a handy San Juan’s cove.
As I laid awake at the guest dock in Bellingham Wednesday night, the boat was rocking and rolling and squealing against the fenders. Yet another gale was passing through and I wondered if I was really going to get away in the morning. Well at least I may have some wind, I thought, as I remembered the trip motoring most of the way over from Sidney. The problem would be Bellingham Bay and its notoriously rough 7 miles in a stiff southerly. Once clear of that my courses would be generally West, so the trick was to ride a moderate southeasterly clear of the bay on port tack and make it as far as possible before it turned southwesterly after the associated front passed through.
I awoke Thursday morning to light SE winds and a breaking sky. I wondered what I did to deserve this turn of events! I quickly did my get-away chores and cleared the breakwater on a hard-to-weather port tack making for the Post Point Bouy in about 10 knots of wind and a low chop. I played the wind shifts to ensure I took advantage of every lift to get out of Bellingham Bay on one tack and if I’m lucky clear Eliza Island. I was carrying only the working jib with the main because the forecast called for increasing winds and singlehanding without roller furling means a bit of a job to change to the genoa and I wasn’t in a big hurry. The wind was variable and I was making 3.5 to 5 knots to weather. As I approached the Post Point Bouy the wind increased to about 18 knots and I was glad I didn’t change the jib. It was still from the SE and with luck I could still clear the S side of Eliza Island. Maybe I’m nuts but to me this was ideal sailing. I’ve always loved going to weather in a breeze. Maybe it’s the being-on-the-edge part of it; intently playing the course to the sail tell-tales and constantly adjusting the mainsail to get just the right amount of heel, using all my senses and feeling for that point where the boat falls into its designed groove bringing with it that wonderful satisfaction of perfect balance. My contentment was heightened by the sun coming out and highlighting the small whitecaps sending sparkling spray flying across the bow, just enough to be interesting but not getting back into the cockpit. Boat speed came up over 6 knots and I was lost in my joyful sailing trance!
Shariyat and I easily cleared Eliza carrying a small luff in the mainsail. I could easily have reefed but that seemed like cheating and I could see less wind on the water ahead showing me I would soon need the full main again. Now the to-weather work was done and I could bear off west for Sinclair Island. We stormed along on a reach until we approached the Cone Islands off Cypress Island where the wind quickly fell to almost nothing and I had to change course to bring the wind aft. Getting an early start, having made good speed and not planning to go very far meant that I could take the time to enjoy the challenge of this light wind sailing. I find much satisfaction in getting the most out of the boat in the light stuff. Most people would probably start the motor but I think they would miss a lot of the sailing adventure, as I was about to prove. We were making 3 knots thru the water and just 2 over the bottom as we approached Toe Island. This would be a fine challenge with the light winds from astern and the increasing current against us! To be safe I chose to duck south of Toe where the current would hopefully keep me off it but it meant going through the very narrow passage between it and Cypress Island. The current increased to 2.5 knots and we were making only 3. Somewhere in the pass I expected the current to split and pull me thru instead of forcing me off (I’ve done this before) but first I had to get there. I poled out the genoa so I could run dead downwind and steering by the GPS course-over-ground I headed 90 degrees away from the pass and suddenly found myself going sideways at 3.5 knots! This was certainly an odd feeling as I worked for every ounce of speed to keep from being pushed back onto the shore while neatly side-stepping right thru between the islands.
Once thru the pass we lost the wind in the lee of Cypress and the current rips and eddies turned the boat right around so we were going backwards at 4 knots. Since this was roughly the direction I wanted to go anyway I just let it be while the current pushed us towards where I could see wind on the water again. I was happy to see the wind back from a favorable direction. You never know in the islands as one channel can be breezy and its neighbor flat calm or blowing from a different direction. But to make it to Obstruction Pass in the strong current setting south in Rosario Strait meant heading more than 45 degrees off the apparent courseline. Again using the GPS course-over-ground I slowly changed course as we worked out of the current to where I could actually head close to my destination and the current flowing into Obstruction Pass grabbed us and pulled us in.
Successful sailing in the islands means planning your route and timing to take full advantage of the currents. I was lucky this day because the timing was favorable to get an early start and catch a free ride most of the way. Riding on a favorable current means you can sail in light or contrary winds and still make it somewhere but it also means you need to be flexible and let nature tell you where you are going to go and when instead of the other way around. I have come to enjoy the sense of spontaneity and adventure this approach has brought to my sailing here.
With a 1 knot current behind me in Obstruction Pass I was content to sail at 2 knots for the short distance, making 3 knots over the bottom. Once thru I headed for Harney Channel and found a 1 knot current against me. With 1 knot of speed over the bottom and no wind in sight I finally made the decision to use the motor. In studying the currents and my route I found I had the rare opportunity to make both Obstruction Pass and Pole Pass at the other end of the central San Juan Islands with favorable currents but I couldn’t wait around much. I had hoped to not use the motor at all this trip but I lost the flexibility when I decided to try to make both passes in the same day. Fortunately the wind came back after just 15 minutes of motoring but it was light and from behind.
In my frequent trips through the San Juans I have succeeded in actually sailing about 80% of the time. Talking to other sailboaters it seems this is a very high percentage. One reason for my success is having good light wind sails, especially a spinnaker. With this big sail having a pole to be able to go directly downwind, I can sail when I would otherwise have to be motoring. It also provides many challenges and adventures that help make up for the sometimes slow boat speed that might otherwise be boring! So this day I set the chute heading into Harney Channel and my speed went from 1.5 knots to 3.5 knots and with no current in the channel at that time was plenty fast enough.
One place I like to spend the night is Blind Bay, being right in the middle of the San Juans and between the two major passes, makes it very handy. There was still an hour of daylight left though and I thought I might make it to Jones Island but more importantly It looked like I had the perfect opportunity to do something I’ve always wanted to do-fly the spinnaker through Pole Pass singlehanded! Its not as difficult as it might seem as I have a very reliable and oversize autopilot to do the steering. Being directly downwind I also had the opportunity to practice my solo gibing of the big sail and I had some different ideas to try out. With the boat speed at only 3-5 knots it also helped to reach up some on each gibe to make better speed and it was easy to try things. Being singlehanded meant I could only do one thing at a time so I have to pre-set the main while I go forward to swap the spinnaker pole over. I tried gibing the main over first, sheeting it amidships, and gibing it over after gibing the pole, and verified my earlier experiments that having it amidships works best. I tried various positions for the lengths of both sheets, the placement of the pole before I went forward and remembered to always slack the foreguy before I started. I found with everything set just right I could easily get the pole across and keep the sail full and drawing without it collapsing while I afterwards let out the mainsail.
After a dozen good gibes we approached the narrow pass but the wind was getting a little flukey although well astern. Everything was lining up well and I double checked that everything was ready in case something went wrong. The genoa halyard was attached, and its sheets clear for raising and the outboard was ready to start. There was little current in the pass as we went in at 4 knots. The wind came on the beam and had me a bit concerned but we were making it and I gave out a loud holler as I watched each shoreline pass by less than 50’ away. Then disaster struck about ¾ of the way thru-a severe header! This was the worst possible thing and the solution was not clear. Was this just temporary and the wind would come around back aft shortly? If not could I coast thru it to the other side of the pass where I could change course so it could fill? I had only seconds to make up my mind. The wind stayed ahead and we were slowing down very quickly. I lept to the foredeck and released the pole-end sheet shackle to the chute. I lept back to the cockpit and gratefully found the other sheet still leading forward of the boom where I grabbed it, quickly pulled in the foot of the big sail, reached over and released the halyard and pulled the closely bunched sail down and into the companionway. Fortunately the wind direction put us on a very close reach so I quickly sheeted in the main and jumped back up to the mast and hoisted the genoa as tight as I could by hand and ran back to the cockpit and sheeted it it. By now the boat speed was down to less than 1 knot but was now increasing. We never lost steerageway and the whole sail change took about 30 seconds. WOW! I didn’t believe what just happened. I was sure glad I was prepared for that sail change. I didn’t even think of using the outboard, I guess because I’m so used to sailing without it.
As soon as I tightened the halyard and trimmed the genoa the wind came aft again to where I needed the spinnaker. I really wasn’t surprised as that’s what I expected but hoped it would be a lot quicker. I was so pumped with adrenaline I figured I might as well re-pack and re-set the chute, seeing as how this whole thing was about spinnaker drills! So within a few minutes, after clearing the rubble of sheets and halyards it was all back up again and drawing nicely for Jones Island. It was just getting dark as I drifted up to a mooring under just the mainsail. I was able to latch on as we went by and we rounded up safe and sound.
Shariyat was the only boat at Jones Island. I had seen no other pleasure boat the entire trip. There was no concern about traffic so I could try my spinnaker thru the pass. There were no big wakes from passing powerboats to stop my precious momentum when sailing in very light winds. I could have my pick of nearly all the moorings in the entire island group. This is the way it was meant to be!
PS – Don’t tell anyone!