| |
|  |
|
Our sailing cruise to the San Juan Islands started last January. My son Rob keeps in touch with many of his boyhood and college friends extolling the virtues of being a live-aboard sailor and the beauty of cruising Puget Sound and the San Juan Islands. His invitation this year was accepted by his California friend-since-eighth-grade Jason (and his wife Pam) and Rob’s college friend (Angi) from St. Louis, MO. Additionally, Rob’s girl friend Virginia and my girl friend Monika would round out the crew list.
Rob sent emails to each crew member in March preparing them for the upcoming cruise. Internet sites about the San Juan Islands and web cams showing the islands were emailed and since most novice sailors always ask, "what should I bring?" the email also included a recommended items checklist. For planning purposes the crew was asked about any special dietary considerations or other concerns that should be known. Pam returned the best response advising that she did not eat "anything with a face." Further clarification revealed that she didn’t eat anything with a "cute" face. What’s a "cute" face? After more clarification Pam confessed that she actually didn’t eat things with four legs. It’s a good thing that salmon and crab do not have four legs - or "cute" faces. I met Jason and Pam in Friday Harbor on Friday afternoon. We were there to meet Rob and Virginia who had just completed a week-long cruise off the Islands with Rob’s mother and step-father. By early evening we had settled onto the boat and decided to go ashore for some Mexican food. A sign on the front door of our usual Mexican restaurant noted that it was closed until Monday. Imagine, a Friday night in the middle of summer and no Mexican food. Go figure. We went into the "so where do we go now?" mode. As we crossed the street a friendly driver stopped, smiled and waved at us. Out of desperation we asked him if there was another Mexican place in town. He directed us to a place a couple blocks up the hill. We found it to be a very picturesque old house sitting by itself on a hill. By now it was nearly nine o’clock and the waitress said that the cook was shutting the kitchen down for the evening. That’s when the concept of "island time" became apparent. While some business people are closed over a summer weekend, others roll up the sidewalks when the sun goes down. The pace of life in the Islands is much slower and city folk like us need to readjust our expectations to a slower, more leisurely pace of life. Besides island time, the crew was also subjected to "captain’s time." The crew was up Saturday morning and ready to go at 7:00 am. The captain, however, didn’t get up until 8:30! There was nothing to do but sit in the warm sun, catch up on some reading and enjoy the activities of the harbor as it came alive. We hadn’t even started the cruise and realized that we all needed to shift our attitudes, relax, unwind and bring life back into perspective. What’s the hurry? The only schedule we had to keep was to be back at Friday Harbor in five days for a crew change. We hoped to get one of the two mooring buoys in Active Cove on Patos Island but arrived too late in the afternoon. We continued to the east end of Patos Island to the gunkhole in the bay at Toe Point. With three boats already anchored there we decided to look for something a little more private. And we found it. Continuing around the shoal at Toe Point we found a small crescent shaped bay with a beautiful driftwood strewn shoreline and gravel beach. According to "Gunkholing in the San Juan Islands," weather permitting, this was a possible temporary anchorage. Since we were only going to be there temporarily (overnight) and the weather was favorable (winds out of the south) we dropped the hook in ten feet of water. Two hours later we sensed that the anchor was dragging and decided to reset. Based on the amount of "salad" on the anchor and the kelp around us we were probably anchored in a fairly sizable kelp bed. The second attempt was acceptable and even saw us through a rogue roller in the middle of the night. Except for occasional rollers from passing ships in Boundary Pass, the water remained calm our entire stay. We have never been at an anchorage where we felt so exposed and yet at the same time isolated from the rest of the world. The Patos Island Lighthouse and Canada were off to the west, the lights of Vancouver, BC were to the north, and the city lights of Bellingham to the east. One of the joys of sailing the San Juans is finding these peaceful anchorages where you are the only boat around gently rocking in your own private cove with your own private beach. 
The Toe Point Portage Later that evening (it is now dark and the tide is awash over the reef at Toe Point) Rob and Jason decide to dinghy to Toe Point Bay and visit the boaters. As good sailors, they know to check the tide and current tables before venturing out. However, these good sailors are not good "dinghyers." During the time Rob and Jason visited the boaters, the tide went out enough to expose the reef they had just paddled over. No problem they thought; just go around the reef. Not a good plan. Even though they were both strong paddlers, they were no match for the current coming against them around the tip of the reef. As a result they spent the next two hours portaging the dinghy across the barnacle and shell encrusted reef – in bare feet! An article I just read by sailing author Bob Bitchen, noted that attitude is the difference between ordeal and adventure. Even though they were cold, wet and sore Rob and Jason certainly had an adventurous attitude. Good thing we got some great sailing in yesterday; steady 10-15 knot winds all day. The short trip to Sucia Island was all under power. Ugh. We arrived in Fossil Bay early enough to get one of the few remaining mooring buoys. It always feels good to get off the boat, stretch your legs and explore the local islands. There is no lack of varied and interesting places to hike on Sucia Island. Without being specific, I’ll just say there are enough trails on Sucia Island to keep the casual hiker occupied for the better part of a day. It is day three and after two days "at sea" it’s time to partake of some shore amenities. Loosely translated that means: The women wanted showers; the men probably needed showers. Deer Harbor, here we come. Boating 101 When cruising with friends it’s nice to have some sailing related activities to offer the guests. As the captain, Rob is more than eager to teach anything he knows but doesn’t want the guests to feel obligated to have to learn something. The guests on the other hand might want to know how to do something but may be embarrassed to ask. To solve this dilemma, Rob provided a list of "seminars" and mentioned them during the crew’s initial safety and orientation briefing. Crew members could "sign up" to learn about something they were interested in or at the very least not feel obligated to do something in which they were not interested. Seminars were offered on: "What do all those ropes do?" A brief discussion of lines and their purpose; "How do you know how to get to where you’re going?" An introduction to navigation and GPS; "How does that little thing hold the boat in place?" Fundamentals of anchoring and mooring; "Knot tying." Useful knots on the boat (and in the bedroom); and everyone’s favorite, "Doing dishes in the galley." A ?hands-on course followed by the advanced course, "Doing dishes while under full sail." By day four I realized this cruise was turning out to be a typical summer sailing cruise in the San Juans; sunny, warm, slight breeze (not enough to sail on) and the usual complement of seals and eagles (unfortunately, no whales this trip). We motored all the way to Roche Harbor. 
We spent the afternoon walking around and exploring historic Roche Harbor. All within a mile of the marina you can walk to the historic (1886) Hotel de Haro and its gardens, the old Store, the Chapel, the cemetery, the mausoleum, the lime pits and lime kilns. As a boater, another great place to explore is the docks. If you like to look at big yachts, there are some beauties here. In the evening we made a point of watching the flag-lowering ceremony. It is a Roche Harbor tradition. Don’t return from Roche Harbor and have to say you didn’t see the ceremony. It’s Wednesday and we are back in Friday Harbor to bid farewell to Jason and Pam and welcome the new crew, Monika and Angi. This is also a re-provisioning and laundry layover. The liquor cabinet also needs restocking for the on-coming crew. This time instead of buying two "regular" sized bottles of each flavor we bought the "larger" sized bottles. Someone suggested that we wouldn’t look like a bunch of drunken sailors at the dumpster if we had half the number of empties. Bigger is better. Just before sunset Rob and I rowed the dinghy to Brown Island at the entrance to Friday Harbor and set the crab pot. It seemed odd that this was the only spot we saw crab pots and also odd that there were only two crab pots in the area. We decided to let our crab pot sit over night and pick it up on the way to Rosario in the morning. I’m not much into the social graces of sailing etiquette but it dawned on me at Roche Harbor that perhaps we should be tipping the dock staff when pulling into a marina slip. Conversations with other boaters suggested that at a facility like Friday Harbor tipping is not customary because dock workers normally don’t greet boaters as they tie up. However, at private marinas like the ones we visited (Deer Harbor, Roche Harbor and Rosario) tipping for dock assistance is the norm because the dock staff is there to welcome you and to lend any necessary assistance. Rob and his crew are proficient enough at pulling into a slip that assistance has never been required. Until this trip I never even thought about tipping. Now I feel guilty for not tipping the dock staff who, in our experience, have always been friendly and courteous; though not needed. On the way out of Friday Harbor we picked up the crab pot. We finally scored - caught nine; five were keepers. As we motored to Rosario, Rob cleaned the crabs and I got the water boiling. There would be crab cocktails for dinner tonight. Life on the water is good. We were fortunate to get a mooring buoy at Rosario. An unexpected surprise was that boaters on the mooring buoys also have access to the resort’s amenities; swimming pools, sauna, hot tub, exercise room. Very generous of the resort. A must see while at the Rosario Resort is the Christopher Peacock performance at the Rosario Resort mansion. During his hour and a half program in the mansion’s music room, Christopher tells the history of Rosario; much of it with a slide presentation. Best of all, he plays an antique Steinway grand piano and a pipe organ with nearly 2,000 pipes. Great music; great venue. Get there early if you want a seat. Best Line of the Trip During an evening conversation with the folks on the buoy next to us at Rosario, we learned that they had moved here from Minnesota. We asked them why and they replied, "Are you kidding? Just look around." (Ok, so that’s two lines.) And they were right. When you have the luxury of easy access to some of the most beautiful cruising islands in the world and can visit them every summer, you tend to take them for granted. Sometimes it takes an outsider to refocus your attention and to remind you what a gem these islands are. Snagged the crab pot on our departure from Rosario. Caught three crabs. None of them was a keeper. Oh well. So what do you do when you run out of salmon tails bought at the grocery store for crab bait and threw out the salmon skins left over from dinner last night? You dig deep into the icebox and find the chicken left over from four days ago and the bratwurst left over from two days ago. That was the plan for crab pot bait as we set anchor in Barlow Bay. After Virginia and Monika returned from their four-hour walk into Richardson we had a leisurely dinner while watching other boaters enter the bay and anchor for the night. After the dishes were done by a couple of the "seminar" graduates, Monika, our card reading "wench," brought out her Tarot cards and foretold of lives of luxury, happiness and wealth. That certainly seemed to describe our cruise so far. Shortly after the lights went out and everyone was settled into bed somebody said, "Hey John Boy? Did you set the crab pot?" Oops. The crabs would get a break this night. 
Crossing the Straight of Juan de Fuca was like most of our crossings; sunny, a slight breeze, calm seas with an occasional roller, and of course, under power. The Saturday night stop in Port Townsend is our customary on-the-way-back to Seattle stop. This year we happened to be in town for the Blues Festival. During the evening we hit five clubs in three hours; just enough time to hear two or three songs from each group. We could not get settled into one spot for very long but we heard a variety of great blues musicians. Frankly, I liked the blues harp player who entertained people during the afternoon at the end of the street by the beach the best. His music was relaxing and restful. Listening to it while sitting on a beach log digging your toes into the warm sand and looking out over the water was fantastic. During the Blues Festival the Palace Hotel was open for visitors to look around. The public had access to all areas of the hotel including rooms that were not yet occupied. This is a great late 19th century building with great old furniture and fixtures. Makes you feel like you are back in the heyday of the old Port Townsend. (Note to Management: Need to lose the television sets. They clash with the atmosphere.) We awoke Sunday morning at 7am to fog horns. Departing Port Townsend an hour later there was still enough fog to warrant activating the radar. But by the time we reached the Port Townsend Canal, five miles away, the sun was out and it was another beautiful day. Except for an hour’s worth of sailing, we were going to end our San Juan sailing cruise back to Seattle under power. An hour out of Shilshole, Monika and I were laying on the bow talking about how great the trip was. An added cruise bonus is when no one gets hurt and nothing breaks. Little did we know that an hour later as we eased into our slip we would wrap the bowline around the prop shaft. All we needed was a "touch" of reverse thrust to stop our forward momentum. The forward momentum stopped, and so did the engine. Another adventure was about to begin. ...back to 48° North title page.
|
|