Day 6

The second to last day of the Salish 100 event, a week long, small boat cruise sailing 100 miles in Puget Sound from Olympia to Port Townsend, WA.

*I have chosen to write about the most outstanding day of Guppy’s and my adventure first. I am doing this not only because it is the most fun to write about but also due to my memory. Still recovering from a 3 week long packed adventure, detailed memories elude me at present moment. I plan to wait and write of the other adventurous days in the future. Now, I will write about the day that terrified me into never forgetting.

A smooth sea never made a skillful sailor.

Franklin D. Roosevelt

We were due to depart from Kingston Marina no later than 8:00 am. I had a short but restful sleep the night before and was up at 6:00 am, as not to be late to set sail. The marina was humming with excitement. Sailors hurrying about, preparing to set out. I made sure to have a substantial breakfast this morning, as I had made the mistake previously on this trip of skipping. Skipping resulted in a day of never feeling quite right. Important lesson learned: never skip coffee or breakfast. I made maple oatmeal and a strong cup of coffee in Guppy’s cockpit beside the dock. People stopped by and chatted during this time. I had noticed how the wind had picked up over night. I thought aloud and to myself, “Should I change out the headsail to my working jib?” The reduced headsail may prove to be too prudent later in the day, and we have had such light winds throughout the trip thus far. Something kept nagging me in my gut. “Stop being lazy. Get up and change the sail.” I listened. This would prove later to be a crucially correct moment to listen to my gut.

I took my time preparing. I left the main sail down and secured it snuggly. I ensured that my working jib was perfectly set. I felt a sense of urgency to have every detail tended to before departing. I passed another sailor on the dock who exclaimed, “It’s going to be fun out there! Yahoo!” “Yahoo!” I answered back. It was exciting, but a little fear was definitely pestering me.

While sailing out of the protected marina, I had my first hello from the heavy winds. Yikes! I struggled to maintain a good heading to clear the rocky jetty. I used my motor and had to tack once again. I tacked back, cleared the jetty, and immediately encountered the next challenge of getting past a large, temporarily docked ferry. This beast loomed over Guppy, with its engines churning a powerful wake astern that I had to sail through. The wake and the point of sail that I was on were not optimal. I fired up my motor that I had recently shut down for extra oomph to pass the monstrous boat. My trusty motor came through, and I was able to pass to the stern of the ferry with time to spare. Once past, I was relieved only for a short bit, when I realized what formidable conditions we were in.

I heard over my handheld VHF radio that one of the sailboats in our fleet had trouble and was grounded on some rocks by the marina. This was going to be one heck of a day, I thought. The advice I received before departure was to stay close to shore to avoid the possible opposing current, but I was sailing in high winds and was avoiding jibing due to fear. I stayed on a tack for too long and was out far from shore encountering heavy winds from the stern with an opposing current pushing on our bow. The current and wind fighting each other created an interesting sea condition. On the radio they were predicting 4-5 foot swells. But it had an unusual rhythm… something that baffled this primarily lake sailor. I would compare it to being in a washing machine. As I was trying to understand the seas, the jib sail violently snapped back filling the other side, I reached for the port jib sheet to release it and pull in the other side, but I was too slow. Then, we were broadsided by a wave. Before I could even realize what was happening, instincts took over, and I was crouched in Guppy’s cockpit footwell gripping the cockpit hand rails. I remember glancing to my starboard side, and seeing the black rub rail in the water; we were at almost a 90 degree angle! And just as quickly as it had happened, Guppy bobbed back up. I seized the moment! There was no time to process or to worry or to anything! I sheeted in the starboard jib sheet and secured it. I was getting the heck back to shore! I was shaking from adrenaline and fear. The realization that we had nearly capsized started to hit. I decided to clip my VHF radio to my life jacket. I always have my radio secured to the boat, but now I see the reason why that might not be the best idea. My whole body was shaking. But I sailed on, because what else is there to do?

I hugged that shore. I stayed very close, as close as I could without fear of grounding. With only a foot and half draft, I could stay in shallow water. The wind was powerful and unrelenting. It required complete and total attention. During this time of sailing downwind in heavy winds, I had flashbacks of the Texas 200. Memories of my rudder issues haunted me. I now had a reinforced thick steel tiller connection so that wasn’t a worry anymore, but I still had the fear that my rudder would come out of the gudgeons again. Without any crew, it would be a bugger to reinsert the rudder it in these conditions. I was very cautious and deliberate with my rudder movements.

Blast! I noticed that the line to assist in lowering the jib sail had went overboard and was dragging along side Guppy. I would need that line. My friend and fine sailor, Christine, had rigged this on the first night of this adventure to help me lower the jib from the cockpit, keeping me off the bow and safe in heavy conditions. In my mind, I thought this is one time in which I so need the line. I stuck my hand in the icy water trying to grasp it while still sailing. This was too dangerous. I could not take my attention off of sailing for more than a second. I would just have to figure it out later. Surely, the wind will have to slow at some point.

I had been shaking and thinking this isn’t fun anymore. I practiced some breath work in hopes to calm and relax me in these opposite than calm conditions. Hey, I have been through the Texas 200, surely I can handle this! Well, I also had crew on the Texas 200, I thought. This internal conversation wasn’t helping my nerves. Listening to the VHF radio and watching the other small boats not too far from me gave me some reassurance. I thought, once I get past Point No Point, I will be in the clear. After a while, Guppy and I finely got into a rhythm.

Point No Point had been a large topic of conversation on this trip. I was warned earlier that around this point can be a strong riptide and to avoid it by staying close to shore. Approaching Point No Point, my whole body was shaking, but I was prepared. Once I reached the tip I felt and actually saw the pull of this strong current. There was a different blue stripe in the water that pulled Guppy fast and hard away from shore. I was prepared for the jibe to change direction, to cut through this current and get back to shore. I released the port jib sheet and sheeted in the starboard as I jibed. I moved so fast that I got a little rope burn, but it was a successful jibe and no near-capsize, so a success in my book. I sailed out of the current and back near shore. We did it! We conquered Point No Point under sail alone.

I was ever hopeful for lighter conditions past the dreaded point. I only encountered more wind. Whew, I could not catch a break. I needed a break. Finally, as I approached Foul Weather Bluff, before the crossing to the final destination of Mats Mats Bay, the wind lightened. I seized the opportunity and got the rogue line that had been dragging in the water.

Then, I noticed a significant decrease in our overall speed. Not only had the winds lightened, but we seemed to have hit an opposing current. To get past Foul Weather Bluff, I started up my motor. Once past the point, I shut it down. I thought there may be more wind past the point, but there wasn’t. And to my disbelief, I began raising the mainsail. After a day of pounding winds, it was a surprise to have both sails up, a pleasant surprise. I smoothly sailed downwind and wing on wing to approach the narrow entrance to Mats Mats Bay, our final anchorage. I noticed it was still before 2:00 pm, the earliest I had reached any anchorage on this trip. Guppy and I had been flying!

I dropped sails at the entrance and motored into the bay. This was such a sweet place, an oasis. It was a completely protected cove, with 100 small boats nestled at anchor. I wanted to anchor near Christine, but my motor had a mind of its own. It died, and I decided that that spot was a fine spot to drop anchor. Then, my friends Bob and Wendi brought their dinghy from their boat Bacchus, with my paddle board in tow (I lost it on day 5, another fun story!). We chatted and Bob helped me inspect the motor. We cleaned up the spark plug again. They are wonderful people.

Completely spent, I crawled into my cabin for a rest. A short and heavy rainfall added to the beauty of my nap. After this fantastic nap and rain, I made a hearty dinner of chicken and rice and ate while watching a full rainbow arch over our anchorage. I was so happy, and I planned to make the most of this last night on the water. I could hear folk music coming from shore. I was going to finally use my paddle board! I squeezed awkwardly into my wetsuit that my dad insisted I wear if I was to paddle board and balanced onto my board. Kirk on his nearby Flicka said hello and offered a tour of his boat that I had been hoping for the whole trip. The Flicka is my dream “big” boat. I climbed aboard his beautiful boat from my paddle board and admired in awe. We had a wonderful talk of many topics. What an impressive sailor he is. There are so many great people on this trip and with so much knowledge! I am lucky to be here.

After the nice visit, I paddle boarded around the anchorage some more and enjoyed the most incredible sunset. What a day, what a place, what a dream come true!

I was unable to capture much of the day’s scary and difficult times for obvious reasons. This short video does not do justice to the experience. However, I was rewarded with the most photogenic and amazing sunset of the trip!

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