While many sailboats double as floating motel rooms for overnight adventures, our Columbia 28 sloop, Ariel, rarely fills that role. The old sailboat seldom finds herself away from her berth for more than a few midday hours when my wife, Laura, and I take her out for a spin. Most of our time spent on the 50-year-old vessel occurs during a Pacific Northwest afternoon, touring the local waters with friends or family.
But every once in a while we stretch our wings (or more appropriately, our canvas) and spend a night in her small V-berth, often after enjoying a barbecue in the cockpit and Scrabble at the galley table. Sometimes, those infrequent overnighters may involve attending local events like the Tuesday afternoon summer concert series in Gig Harbor.
On a particularly beautiful day in late August, we could have driven from our home in Tacoma across the Tacoma Narrows Bridge to the concert site at Skansie Brothers Park in about a quarter of the time it took Ariel to cross Commencement Bay. But a perfect alignment of events prompted us to travel by boat, just as the citizens of Tacoma did up until almost 85 years ago, before the first bridge was built, and then for another decade while waiting for a new bridge after the famous collapse in 1940.
We hadn’t spent much time aboard Ariel in 2024, even though she is our go-to recreational diversion. Since we’d been busy visiting and caring for relatives in California in spring and early summer, Ariel had seen very few swells and whitecaps across her bow in those prime sailing months. But when our friends Ken and Jeanie, who are avid kayakers, mentioned their plan to view one of the weekly concerts from the water in the picturesque harbor town, Laura and I saw an opportunity.
We also have a kayak, an inflatable two-person model that we keep aboard Ariel, mostly as an emergency dinghy. But in this case, we figured we could sail or motor Ariel to the event, launch the bright yellow tender from the bow, and join our friends in the waters just off the shore near the concert site.
With our plan hatching, we called to reserve a berth at Arabella’s Landing, a top-notch marina with well-maintained facilities, and within walking distance to the numerous shops and restaurants in Gig Harbor. As luck would have it, there were still a few berths available, albeit oversized for our small vessel. We checked the tides, wind, and time, with favorable numbers on two out of three conditions. With the wind barely above a whisper, Ariel’s sails remained snuggled under their covers, their power usurped by our motor. We threw together some snacks, drinks, and our overnight bag, headed to the marina, and got Ariel underway in minutes.
Having tuned up our small Yamaha 9.9 outboard in the spring, we cruised along at nearly 5 knots, sharing our journey with a solitary fishing vessel at the north end of the narrows, and a cabin cruiser that looked like she was heading to the same event. Just southwest of Vashon Island, our short trek gifted us with a visit from a small pod of harbor porpoises before we slowed to our final destination.
Navigating through the narrow opening of Gig Harbor was manageable at high tide, although tales from members of our sailing club prompted extra caution. We’ve heard stories of experienced sailors running aground just off the northern spit of the entrance, with its ornamental miniature lighthouse belying its symbolic purpose.
Once in the harbor, we cruised past pier after pier jutting out from restaurants and homes, each one overflowing with vessels moored by vacationers or residents. Concerns about an unmarked entrance to our berth were allayed when our Navionics app pointed us to our overnight destination, allowing us to enter the marina past the massive cruisers dwarfing our homey sailboat.
After adjusting and retying our docklines, we headed to the marina office to check in. The host informed us about the amenities and services at the marina and along Harbor Drive, the street that runs parallel to the shore. We were hesitant to tell her that we lived just across the narrows, a 15-minute drive away. But when we explained that we wanted to watch the town’s weekly musical event from the water, her response put us at ease.
“What a great idea to get away for a night. Have fun at the concert!”
We pumped up our kayak, which our friends have humorously named Flounder after the Disney character in “The Little Mermaid,” and enjoyed the requisite salami, cheese, and crackers at our galley table as we waited for Ken and Jeanie to arrive.
After receiving their arrival text, we paddled Flounder out to meet them and two additional friends, Rod and Jamie, along with the couple’s cute dog, Cora. We arrived early in the protected waters near the public dock, and there were few other boats to navigate through. But as the musical group completed its sound check before the start of the show, elbow room was tight, with motorboats, paddleboards, and gondolas jockeying for position.
We tied up to a pier within earshot of the stage and the six of us shared more picnic fare and travel stories while the band got the crowd going with several Jimmy Buffet tunes. When they shifted their repertoire from familiar tunes like “Margaritaville” to something less intoxicating, Jeanie suggested that we go for a paddle to the lighthouse to work off dinner. We had the bay to ourselves, and it seemed that the entire population of Gig Harbor was at the concert or aboard their cabin cruisers or at vacation homes.
When we got back to the middle part of the harbor, we said our goodbyes and headed back to our boat. Though home wasn’t far away, we found comfort and coziness in Ariel’s cabin, and settled in after discussing plans for the next day’s journey back home.
Checking the tides for our return trip to Tacoma, we knew that leaving early would prevent motoring against the current as we headed east to our home marina. Since Laura and I are early risers, we were ready to cast off before 7 a.m. after finishing our coffee and granola.
With Flounder securely nestled on the foredeck, we snuck Ariel quietly away from the dock, trying not to wake our friendly neighbors in their Nordic Tug. As we approached the mouth of the harbor, we knew our course would have to be more judicious than the one we took the previous night. Avoiding the flood tide meant the depth was ultralow, and we held our breaths as the depth sounder display plummeted to single digits, numbers we had never seen before!
After making it through the narrow opening unscathed, we found ourselves in the open waters of Commencement Bay, heading toward the cliffs of Point Defiance and a beautiful sunrise within the mottled, cloudy sky. The journey home was one of the many highlights of the brief sojourn, with the calm, quiet waters of Puget Sound allowing a moment of peaceful contemplation.
As we cruised close to the shore, we passed far more fishing boats along Owen Beach in the early morning hour than on our previous day’s reverse route, and we jostled for position with the Vashon ferry before entering the marina. Once moored, we deflated Flounder and buttoned up Ariel, readying her for her next journey, whether it be another overnighter to attend an evening festival or simply a short cruise in familiar waters.
On Puget Sound, we’re so fortunate to be near our home, but out on our boat as well.
David Casey is a retired math teacher and semiprofessional woodworker and bass player. He plans on using his retirement to build a small sailboat and a kayak, and to explore the waters of southern Puget Sound.
