March 2001
Friday morning came with gray skys and a threat of rain as Lance and I departed Bellingham Bay for what was to be one of the most exciting rides of my sailing career. I had been anticipating this trip for a couple of weeks as Lance owns the same type of boat that I do, a Columbia 26MK2.
Cruising the San Juan Islands has been a dream of mine for a number of years and I have been slowly working up to the kind of boat that my wife and I would feel safe in.
So, this was to be not only a voyage of discovery, but one of learning too. I have the highest repect for Lance’s skill as a Captian and sailor and that was only reinforced with this voyage.
We had set as our goal that first day to be Jones Island, located on the East side of the San Juan Island cluster. Distance for the first day was to be 30 miles. The high point of the trip would be Sucia Island, located on the Northern side of the Island cluster. Forcasted winds caused us to make a circular route with a run straight through the middle of the San Juans to Jones Island and then allow the SW winds to push us all the way North to Sucia Island on Saturday. Sunday would bring NW winds to hopefully blow us home again. Prior to leaving, our track was plotted and way points punched into GPS.
Friday found winds to be fickle, so we motored most of the way through the islands. Important to note, were the strong currents and reefs. I was suprized how currents could try to draw us down on a hazard and how careful planning ahead was required not to be caught in a dangerous situation. I imagined what it would be like if we were in fog and not able to see with our eyes what was happening.
The scenery was spectacular, even with the broken overcast and chilly air. Lance loves to pull close to shore, watching carefully our depth and noting any reef hazard. This gave us the opportunity to see the islands in a close and intimate way. Seals and otters and bald eagles abounded. The water was clear and it was really cool to see the bottom as we drifted by. We took a small detour to Olga Bay, as my wife and I had stayed at a bed and breakfast there and I wanted to see what it looked like from the water. We encountered about 7 knts of wind and managed to shut the iron genny down for a spell of peace and quiet. Too soon, we had to kick the motor back on and resume our track if we hoped to make land fall by dark.
The air grew crisp and cold as the afternoon sun began to set. As always, Lance wanted to explore new nooks and cranies and I am glad that he did, as we saw some of the more spectacular hidden places. I am always amazed at how he is able to easily bring his 26 ft boat into places that the rest of the world, other than a kayaker would dare to venture.
We dropped anchor in a beautiful bay at Jones Island on its North side, well sheltered from the now growing SW winds. Lance quickly opted to row ashore in his 7 ft pram… I looked with concern at what would happen when my bulk entered that little boat. I am easily twice the weight of Lance. But, he assured me that the boat would carry us safely, so I gingerly stepped in and sat down to my surprise, we were still afloat and off we headed for shore. We explored the island until nearly dark. I couldn’t believe the beauty and how well kept the facilities were. All of this for us to use and only just a few people around. We rowed back to the boat and Lance fired up his diesel heater and soon the cabin was nice and cozy. We talked and laughed for hours until we were just to tired to stay up and then hit the rack. I took the v-berth and found that I had plenty of room and it was really cozy up there. Rain hit us through the night and morning came with a light drizzle.
Our weather forcast called for building SW winds to 25 knots and higher, with 3-4 ft sea swells. We plotted our 8 mile trek from Jones Island, out into Presidents Channel and then a slight turn to right around Orcas Island and straight on to Sucia. We now had good wind at our back and as was normal for us now, stayed close to shore, so that we could see nature at its fullest and check out the mega homes that people have built. Full main and 150 jib wing on wing pushed us a hull speed or better and it was a fun ride. The rain left and the blue sky and sun came out with white puffy clouds.. beautiful.. but, the wind was building and as we moved more out into the channel, we found that we had way too much power up, so a reef went into the main and the 150 went down to the 110 working. The wind just kept building until we found ourselves out in the middle of a white enferno. I had not experienced anything like it. A strong current was heading at us and pushing the seas into steep, confused madness. White foam was being blown off the tops of the waves and we began to surf down the large swells and now were hitting over 8 knots! It was wild, every now and then, a cross wave would catch our stern and push us over to the side… I feared that we would broach, but Lance was ever skillful and would each time bring us quickly back on track. Normally I don’t get frightened…. But this time I was fearful. That wild water ment death if we went over…simple as that.. maybe a 20 min survival at most. I had full gear on with harness and the works… not going to take any chances. We were in these conditions for over an hour.
Our heading had us on track for Fossil bay on the south end of Sucia. This is the main stopping point for Sucia, as there are several bays around the parimeter of the Island. What makes this island so unique is that the bays are actually fingers that extend into the island. These fingers are about 200ft wide and vary in length from ¼ mile to over a mile in length. There is one large bay called Echo Bay on the northern end of the island that can hold several hundred boats at anchor. We picked Fossil bay hoping for shelter from the SW winds. As we approached the entrance, Lance had me checking depth against the chart as we needed to clip the entrance point very closely… we had just one chance to make the entrance, otherwise we would have had to come about and beat in… not a pleasant thought. At just the right moment, we made our turn to port (fortunately we had sails set correctly for this and did not have to jibe). We roared in at over 6 knots and immediately found that conditions in the bay were not what we had anticipated. Due to a low point at the head of the bay, wind was being funneled right down that bay, as it was actually a long narrow finger with two high sides formed by sandstone cliffs. So, now we had a head wind of 20 plus knots.. or more. The water was relatively flat inside that bay as the cliffs did offer good protection that way. But the wind was blowing so hard down that chute that what little waves were present, were being blown literally up and into spray. So began a wild beat up that bay. Short, hard tacks… I was tending jib, Lance was at the helm… we worked like one person… it was amazing. Our speed was so fast that the time on each tack was only a few minutes. Each time we came onto a new tack, we heeled over 35 degs. (reefed main and 110 jib).
At the end of the bay was a dock and about 5 boats tied up to it. 4 power and one catameran. It wasn’t long before a crowd had fromed at the end of the dock watching what was to be an unusual spectacle. Lance had us running a slolem course between bouys and boats in the bay. We tacked all the way up to the dock and then came about and began a made dash down wind, heading back out of the bay. I asked Lance why not just take a space at the dock…. He said "naaaa, too windy there, lets pick up one of the bouys down further out towards the end of the bay". So I took the helm and Lance readied the anchor line. As we approached one of the bouys that seemed to be quieter than the others, Lance said "I’ll steer, you to grab the bouy ring"…. We are still sailing..no motor…. I’ve never done this before and I don’t want to miss (too many eyes watching)… so we quickly come about and all of a sudden here is the bow of the boat stopped, right in front of our bouy… I acted "QUICKLY"…. Reached way down and ran the line through the ring without falling overboard… a miracle.. we were moored! ( It wasn’t till later that a sailboat motored in… that’s what they all do you know… the fella at the bow simply reached down with his boat hook and pulled the ring up through the bouy and handed his line through easy as you please!!!).
We stayed on the boat that night, as the wind howled. Lance and I had a nice dinner in a warm cozy cabin with the heater warming us and the latern giving off an amber glow. We recounted our experience out on the raging sea and Lance did admit that a couple of times, he was concerned that we might jibe and break something or worse. He did say that due to the design of the rudder on the 26MK2, he had very powerful control of our direction. Once again I was in awe of this great old boat and William Tripp.
Sunday morning dawned cool, blue sky, puffy clouds and light winds. A perfect day for hiking and sight seeing on Sucia. Rather than make the long row to the dock from our mooring, we motored over to the dock and were immediately met by a small crowd who did nothing but give praise for the fine sailing and seamanship shown the night before. I simply said that we owed it to the boat.
Now here, I entered a world that I had not experienced before…. The world of the power boater. Here were these fine yachts that had every kind of convienience you would want and the owners all looked plush, clean and did nothing but talk about there boats. As their generators ran noisily, they just seemed to hang around their boats.. maybe they did some hiking, but I didn’t see them move in that direction. They looked at us like we were some kind of street bum or something. Here is how I see it… its like the difference between driving around the islands in a tinted window, air-conditioned limo and riding around on a bicicle… we were so much closer to the real world.. nature and all!! Oh, well… off the band wagon… different strokes for different folks.. besides, that could be me when I win the Lottery!
Lance and I were off like a shot and hiked for over two hours. What a beautiful island with high sandstone cliffs, short pine and madrona… the views took your breath away..no wonder they call this island the jewel of the San Juans. We hiked out to Johnson Point, high above the water where a surveyor name Johnson had layed down a mark and carved his initials into the sandstone back in 1862.. still there today.. I just had to reach down and trace my finger through his initials…. Touching back 139 yrs and wondering if this view was just the same one that he saw. We watched the eagles soaring and the otters playing and the seals watching back at us (probably looking for a Big Mac!).
Lance and I looked at each other and said…"lets get back to the boat and go gunkholing"… and so we did and toured the rest of Sucia by boat, hugging the coastline and marveling at the strange and unique way that the sandstone eroded away forming off-world shapes. Soon we were crossing over to Matia Island, barely a mile away to the East. The water was flat and winds very light.. As we approached Matia, we noticed an unusual movement in the water and heading over to investigate. Here was a grand bald eagle swimming in the water! I never knew that eagles could swim, but this one was.. I thought maybe it was injured or something, but didn’t want to think about a rescue with all those talons and beak.. we just watched from a distance and soon the eagle made it to shore, hopped up and there was a 25" salmon in its claw… it had caught a fish too low and hit water.. eagles are not ducks, so can’t take off from the water.. he simply swam ashore like a human, using his wings in the breast stroke fashion.. amazing!
We continued on with a tour of every bay on Matia that we could get into. At one bay, we went up inside until we began to see grass under the boat and registered a depth of 8 ft. The water was so clear that it looked as though we were suspended in space over a field of grass.
3:30 pm and time to head off for home, nearly 18 miles distant. No wind to speak of, so we motor sailed for the next 5 hrs. As we crossed Bellingham Channel, there were several tugs pulling barges crossing our path. Their speed is disceptive and the wake they leave are huge swells… like being out in the ocean. My thoughts kept going back to the day before and how wild the conditions were out in the open water like that, constrasting to the mill pond we were now drifting through.
As the sun began to set while reaching down Hales Pass, the temperature began to take a dramatic drop into the low 30’s and below with the wind chill. The jackets started coming on and Lance heated up some hot soup and tea which warmed us both. Sailing is so much more fun than motoring in a sailboat. At 5.5 to 6 knots, you don’t get far fast. As we popped out of Hales Pass and turned toward Bellingham, the sun was throwing orange and golden rays all over the place and our sails lit up in gold as though they were aglow and alive. 7 more miles to go and I fixed our bearing on the navigation light for entrance to our marina. What a gentle conclusion to our most interesting voyage.
Darkness brought us into our slip at 8:30 pm., a most successful venture. My mind reflected on the past three days. I had finally made the trip through the San Juan Islands and walked on fabled Sucia Island. I felt renewed respect for my mentor and sailing buddy Lance and was most thankful for allowing me to join him on what is normally a solo trip. I learned many things and could see what I needed to do to my boat to make her ready for cruising. I learned how important navigation and chart reading, and weather are. How using the currents is like hopping on a freight train. I learned the importance of knowing how to tie a bowline in gale force winds and how to trust your boat and your skills. How remaining calm is much, much better than panic. I appreciated being out in the elements, close to nature, where you see the wildlife and hear the wind as it passes over the water and into the trees, not stuck inside a smoked glass floating living room getting seasick.
Thank you Lance, thank you for sharing a bit of your world with me.