You could say that the Northern Century 2024 edition was a bit of an enigma because it was everything!
The weather prediction was for a solid first 24 hours of very light wind and very adverse current, followed by Saturday night with complete chaos predicted with up to 40 knots of wind, rain, lightning and thunder, followed by predicted shifty light breeze Sunday morning bringing it in to the finish cutoff time.
Preparing my Santa Cruz 27 Wild Rumpus for the event, my dock neighbors were very entertained. I packed most every sail in the inventory, from my drifter to the storm jib, and a lot of kites. I packed camping gear, and even a
Mr. Buddy heater because it’s been cold at night. I had no intention to ride out the storm, but in case I got caught in it, I bought a new hacksaw, flares, and an airhorn. I rigged the reefs and the jack lines. Alternately, I also brought a new card game in case we were bored and drifting. In the end, it was all of that for the intrepid racers who stuck it out.
We started together on Friday night, August 16, in Fidalgo Bay near Anacortes. The Neil Diamond cover band regaled the fleet as we paraded to the starting line in a few knots of breeze. It looked very light across the bay in the standard race direction, toward Huckleberry Island. A few boats, including Eric Nelson’s Gardyloo, took some time to check out making a left turn up Guemes Channel before the start to see if it was a better way to go. In the end, we all went together around the northeast corner of Guemes Island and headed toward Lummi Island on the way to the first mark at Point Roberts.
With a light breeze and lots of holes, we enjoyed a beautiful sunset and took turns passing each other and getting passed until it got dark. It was a special treat to get passed by the San Juan 24 Juan Solo, only to be “Rick-rolled” on the stereo. The wind was light, but the current was negligible in the first hours of the race. I feel like the goal was definitely to get to the Lummi Island shore to get through the inevitably massive ebb tide coming our way, but there were limited opportunities to get there. On Wild Rumpus, we tried! There was a lot of tacking the drifter, scampering around the mast in light wind with the tiny trimming string, but the angle toward the Lummi Shore was just not attainable. Before we knew it, we were exactly where we solidly did not want to be—along the Sinclair Island shore. The flashing green mark on the southeast corner of the island was abeam in the darkness, and then slightly behind us, and then next to us. We saw boats very close to the shore, and decided foolishly that we didn’t want that. Lesson learned: set the anchor if you’re near shallow water and you’re barely making headway in the dark.
Eventually, we couldn’t see that flashing green mark because we drifted backwards around the corner. At times we were coasting along making a couple knots of water speed, but knowing that we were going backwards over the bottom. Eventually the sun rose over Mount Baker. It was beautiful, however, we were going backwards so fast that it disappeared behind the corner of Guemes Island. The cold hard truth was that we were well on our way back to Anacortes, stern first. We weren’t alone. Other friends were right there with us, and boats continued to emerge stern first from around the corner of Cypress Island where we were trying to duck out of the ebb. Still early on Saturday morning, we knew that the wind forecast was not positive and we had several hours of ebb left and a massive storm system predicted in the evening. We turned on the outboard and became armchair racers from that point forward.
Many boats made it to the Lummi Shore and carried on toward Point Roberts, and many boats made it around the first mark. Some boats made it safely to a dock before the storm. And one boat rode out the storm and finished! Ross Bernard’s Sabre 426 Zen No Zen is a long-time staple of the Northern Century. A beautiful boat with amenities such as an espresso machine (I kid you not!) they raced with three crew, which I think can be a magic number. Zen wowed us all by starting the race as the only boat on starboard jibe in a fleet of port tack kites, and we all made our way through the line without incident. They faced the same challenges of dodging and weaving to stay in the wind, and also ended up at wily Sinclair Island.
The brilliance began when they set their anchor. Ross shared that they anchored for hours, until they got passed by a log with a couple seagulls aboard. Time to go! Even still, they ended up going around the back of the island and made their way up to the Orcas Island shore. Zen favored the left side of the course to Point Roberts, passing between Matia and Sucia islands on the way. They rounded the first mark with Kahuna and Ratfish, before enjoying a tight reach to Patos Island sailing at 80º at 18 knots with the pole on the forestay.
The next decision was the big one: Which side of Waldron Island? The right side is definitely the intuitive choice with open water, but all intel led to taking the left side with better current. Well, it worked. It was a bit light, but there was a current push and they just kept moving forward. After passing slowly through the islands, they arrived at Cattle Pass around dinner time. They put in reefs and hauled up the little jib, but it just wasn’t that windy. On the beat out to Hein Bank, there was lightning and thunder, but they somehow missed the brunt of the wind. Zen has a carbon mast, and they were quite lonely out in the Strait by themselves, but at least they didn’t become a lightning rod. Sailing in 25 knots at the rounding, they put in a couple reefs and a small jib, and they hauled the mail to a 2 a.m. finish at the Burrows Lighthouse. Congratulations, Zen No Zen!
