KELLI's FIRST CRUISE

We were eagerly anticipating Kelli’s first sailing trip.  Jodi’s niece, 7 years old, had been looking forward to this trip for a while.  It was to be Ken’s first trip as well on the boat.  Having new folks on board changes the dynamics of a cruise.  Familiar places to us become new experiences.  Old  becomes new. 

Unfortunately the weather forecast wasn’t cooperating.  A ‘vigorous’ front was moving in on Thursday with forecasted 20 to 30 knot winds.  The wind should soften the balance of the weekend, but the rain sounded like a spigot that would be turned on and off again at will.  Showers and partly sunny seems to be a euphemism for ‘not going to be great, but won’t rain 100% of the time’.   We would have to make do.

Kelli first got a tour of the entire boat.  Stem to stern.   We shared the names of all the rooms.  Bedrooms became staterooms, the kitchen was the galley, and the bathroom was the head.  She came up with her own name for the engine room.  The ‘Dungeon’.  When Ken came down the dock, Kelli took him in hand and gave him the entire tour, stem to stern.

Under cloudy skies we headed over to Henry Island and predictably it started to rain. 

Jodi's signature dish more than made for the first evening of rain.

On Friday morning the weather cleared and we motored over to Genoa bay via Van Isle to check through customs.  Kelli found 'the best seat in the house' on the bow.

Plenty of time for chatting in the cockpit.

Once in Genoa Bay, Kelli took us for a spin in the Bullfrog.

Ken and Jodi

We also found a hummingbird feeder at Genoa.

Relaxing on the deck.

We saw some orca's and a seal who appeared disinclined to get in the water with the killer whales

Learning how to sail

At English Camp, Kelli learns about the British Flag and it's influence on other flags.  Then she helps take the HUGE flag down.

And helps fold it up.

And is personally thanked for her services!

After English Camp, we hiked to the summit of Mount Young

Steep.

Nice view from the top

Later that night severe cork drama required delicate surgery.

And innovation, but all was well in the end.

Tired after SO MANY adventures!!

A quick map of the adventure.

WEEKEND UPDATE

I gave our Sunday morning walk short shrift!  At the last minute I grabbed the camera as I was excited (meaning ‘dragged along to’) go on our morning walk.   Along the way Jodi noticed a bank full of flowers and bees.  I tried to get a few shots, but didn’t download them till later.  Some of them worked….

TIGER, FEIEREABEND, AND KAYAKING

This was a ‘stay at home’ weekend.   Which meant, of course, get out and do stuff, but don’t drive too far.

Saturday we tackled Tiger.  Didn’t take any pictures because, well, it’s Tiger Mountain.  Lush and green, but no real views.  Just 3 miles up, 3 miles down, with 2,000 feet of sweat inducing, heart pounding elevation gain.   Jodi lightly scampered up.  Like a gazelle.  I tromped behind her.  Leaden feet.  Groan, need to get out more.

Saturday night was one of our favorite places.  Feierabend, which means ‘quitting time, and what comes after that’ (or along those lines) in German.  Great selection of German beers, served in nice German glassware and really good German food.  I had a Ham Hock with meat falling off the bone.  Jodi had a sautéed pork dish.  Both had pickled red cabbage.  Yum.

Sunday was a walk, some cleaning, and a quick kayak trip over to Newport Shores.  Where the other half a percent lives.  Some really nice homes over there and some nice boats.  One fellow has both a great trawler and a nice upper end day sailor.  Best of both worlds.  And they are parked adjacent to his front lawn.

Tiger worked the legs, the kayak trip worked the arms.  And the house got clean.  Not a bad weekend.

Anacortes and La Conner Cruise

Several months ago mom asked if we’d like to take her on San Juan Island Yacht Club’s first cruise of the year – The ‘Vice Commodore’s Cruise’.  Originally scheduled for Ganges, BC, the committee apparently favored Anacortes and La Conner as the destination of choice.

Thursday morning we made the now well-traveled trip up I-5 to Anacortes and took up station in lane 4 awaiting the 8:30 am boat.

By 10am we were at the boat unloading and Devin and Kayla had brought mom down from the house.   2 large dock carts full of what seemed to be a months provisioning were loaded into the boat.

The weekend’s forecast was generally good, but being Memorial Day weekend and still early in the year, it was going to change fast and sure enough while at Friday Harbor an angry cloud with rain displaced the sun in short order then moved on leaving us with a pretty good day.

We left Friday Harbor and motored for roughly 3 hours, sighting a large Sea Lion on a buoy just outside of Anacortes.

Even though the cruise formally began on Friday, there were several early arrivals.  Mom was on this committee, so she had some duties with the organizers and it was nice to have helping hands on the dock to take the lines.

Jodi and I gave Rex and Kuper a decent walk, then Bruce and Carol joined us for cocktail hour which gave way to dinner in the cockpit.   Jodi served up her signature dish, a ‘kitchen sink pasta’ which seems to change every time she prepares it.  It’s a hit and I can’t get enough of it.

Friday was the formal check in day and Mom’s task was to give new arrivals their ‘skippers packet’. 

Jodi and I took the opportunity to take the dogs for a quick hike up a hill overlooking the marina.  The top afforded a nice view.

The evening was supposed to be ‘hearty appetizers’ which we took for a substitute for dinner.  Jodi made a killer sausage dish which was gone in about 30 seconds.  The rest of the fare was fairly standard appetizers and not really a dinner substitute.  Oh well, live and learn.

Saturday dawned beautiful.  Not a cloud in the sky.  Mom made a very good breakfast and used some of Jodi’s sauce on the farm fresh eggs from the previous evenings hors d’oeuvres. A solid hit.   We hit the farmers market, walked through the “WT PRESTON” and found a few book stores.

The “WT PRESTON” was a ‘snag boat’, used for pulling stumps and debris from local rivers to keep them navigable early the last century.   Some historic society in Anacortes had her hauled to a location just outside the Marina and for $3 you can go through it.  And ring the bell.  It looks like an industrial riverboat of old which essentially it is.  It’s huge, but only draws 4 feet and was driven by a paddle wheel.  I remember seeing it in Lake Washington and I remembered how they anchored her.  She has two ‘spuds’ which were huge steel shafts.  Raised high they looked like stubby masts.  Lowered, they went through the hull and pierced the muddy bottom of any river or lake, and ‘anchored’ the WT PRESTON if the water was shallow enough.

Jodi got a kick out of the galley.  There was a cook on board who seemed to be a revered fellow.  He provisioned once a week and was in the habit of asking the crew what they fancied for food.  On one such occasion, the crew, to a person, said ‘we don’t care’.  The following week all they got were peanut butter and jelly sandwiches breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the whole week.  It was the last time they ‘didn’t care’

Just before dinner the club christened two boats.  Champagne was smashed on the bow in a traditional christening.

We also got to tour the ‘Teal’.  Built in 1927 she has been magnificently restored and captain Kit has done a fantastic job with her – especially the engine room.  The only way I could describe it is take a well organized world class chief.  Picture their ideal Kitchen – every conceivable utensil, all highly and efficiently organized.  Now translate that to the engine room.  You could eat in there.  Flawless. 

Dinner was at the ‘Majestic’.  There were 3 choices – I picked the steak, always a safe choice.  The pasta got fair to good reviews, but Mom and Jodi had the fish.  Swing and a miss.

SUNDAY

Early morning start.  Early for this cruise.  It pales in comparison to some of our 4am starts when we went around Vancouver Island, but for this civilized cruise, 8am was still an early departure. 

We headed out and in short order were in ‘the ditch’, the Swinomish Slough.  The slough creates ‘Fidalgo Island’, which is an Island in name only.  The slough is roughly 9 miles long and from the north, the small town of La Conner is about at the 6 mile mark.

The current was running a bit, but we docked without incident and set out to explore La Conner – which turned out to be a mild disappointment.

I remember La Conner as charming and quaint.  It still retains some of that feeling, but several of the shops were closed and of those that were open, only a few offered something really unique or special.  And every shop was geared for tourists.  La Conner is a tourist trap. 

For Anacortes, tourism is a plus – an added benefit to an otherwise nice little town.  Take away the tourists and Anacortes would soldier on.  La Conner wouldn’t last more than a season without tourists.

There are still some nice places and seemingly a few good restaurants, but taken as a whole my perception was La Conner had lost a few steps over time and was a tired reflection of what it was 20 or 30 years ago.

The club had a pleasant barbeque on the lawn behind the Marina and we all tumbled into our bunks somewhat early.

Monday morning was a bit drippy, so we decided to catch the later slack through deception pass.  The way back was a bit long, but all in all a successful cruise. 

Later that night a nice sunset!

THE BIG TOW

Steve and Jean’s much loved Cal 39, “Mystic”” had been stuck in Blaine since last summer.  Their engine had blown and needed replacement.  Steve’s research concluded that repairs would best be done in Everett, so the weekend challenge was moving the wounded boat some 75 nautical miles from Blaine to Everett.

On board were Steve, first mate Jean, Jerry, and myself.  We were also accompanied by a 57 foot Defever, skippered by Alan along with two other crew mates.

Friday morning dawned early.  Steve rousted everyone at 5am.  We hanked on the Genoa and with Alan’s Boston Whaler lashed to the side, motored out of Blaine harbor hoping to find sufficient wind. 

Unfortunately there simply wasn’t enough wind.  Steve’s plan called for a minimum of 5 knots to hit the slack at Deception Pass at 2 pm and the available wind wasn’t going to support that schedule.  We motored for a bit with the whaler, then Alan and crew came up from behind and the towing began.

The only unexpected thing with the tow was that Mystic had to be rather actively steered while being towed, meaning that someone needed to be on the helm at all times.  It was going to be a long day.

Jean prepared a wonderful breakfast of double yolked eggs (both Steve and Alan are chicken farmers.  Steve has 5 chickens and Alan has some 35,000), hash browns, and bacon.  Nothing like hot coffee, a great breakfast and being on the water!

We begin to suspect things were going to go our way when it turned out that Mystic towed quite well at around 6 knots.  In addition, the current gave us considerable lift and we were doing 7 and sometimes 8 knots over land. 

Mount Baker was our constant companion throughout the day, seemingly changing positions each time we looked at it.

We arrived at Deception pass shortly before noon for a 2pm slack.  Decision – go outside, challenge the 6 knot current, or kill time and go through closer to slack?   There were suggestions on all sides.  Steve wanted to hit the pass right at slack.  Jerry suggested we could try to punch through.  With the current going against us, we could back down if it was too strong.  Alan wanted to go the outside, down Admiralty inlet.  A longer option, but would avoid killing time waiting for slack.

A grand compromise was struck.   We’d try to go through roughly 1 hour early, challenging a 4 knot current instead of 6. 

We watched some Navy action at NAS Whidbey while killing time before Deception pass.

Tensions mounted in the cockpit as we approached the pass.  The current was running.  A 45 boat coming the other way was thrown nearly sideways and was stuggling maintaining course.   Alan was obviously wrestling with the helm and twice the tow line went slack then was forced taut as ‘Mystic’ reached her maximum distance from the Trawler. 

At this point, a parted line would have been interesting,  Alan had deployed his crew on the aft deck for this potential and aboard ‘Mystic’ we had our plan as well.  We were towing the whaler so in theory we could have quickly rigged it and either continued or managed a safe bailout from the current back into the straits. 

Fortunately Alan kept us in mid stream and we slowly eeked out gains and got through without incident. 

Once through we had more decisions – it was too early to stop at Cornet bay nnd while there were other options, we decided to continue to Everett.  Alan and crew hadn’t been through the locks and wanted to spend the weekend exploring Seattle and going through the locks and getting an earlier start on that would allow them to see more.

Approaching Everett we had one more surprise in store.  Alan radioed that there was ‘something large’ in the water.  We all looked and a few minutes later, roughly 25 yards away, a huge gray whale surfaced, blew, and then dove.  Its back looked like a lichen covered gray rock. 

Docking mystic was another drill.  The ‘Saratoga Swoosh’ was blowing and with a stiff breeze we rigged the whaler along side, let go the tow line, and set off to manage a largely dead stick landing.

I was in the whaler managing the throttle, Steve was at the helm of Mystic and Jean and Jerry were managing the lines.  I almost blew it twice, but all in all a pretty good landing with all hands contributing to a successful effort.

With ‘Mystic’ secured, what could have been a weekend long endeavor lasted a mere 14 hours. 

Now – what to do the rest of the weekend?

ROAD TRIP!

With a decent weather forecast we loaded up the car and we’re off headed for the Olympic Peninsula.  Don’t know exactly where we’re going, but with Ron Judd’s book in hand and cell phones at the ready, we can make and shift plans on the fly.  A nice little adventure!

We caught the 8:40 boat and when buying the coffee, the cashier asked where we were going.  “Olympic Pennisula” was our reply.

“Oh” he said, “Ya gotta go to the ‘Ries.  Everything good at the ‘Ries.

“The Reis?”

“Oh ya.  Gotta go. Gotta go.  Everything good at the ‘Ries”

I’m racking my  brains at this point.  Lived here all my life, never heard of the ‘Ries.

He continued on, “It’s all good at the ‘Ries.  They have all the good stuff.  Wineries, Bakeries, Breweries, and Distilleries.  It’s all good at the ‘Ries”.

Ah.  And so it it is.  Let the weekend begin.

We swung  by Doc’s to pick up a flower arrangement and two boxes of chocolate covered strawberries to take up to Tom and Tessa, then swung north up the peninsula.  Quick call to Fort Flagler, still room available so we headed out to Marrowstone island and on the Rangers suggestion took up residence at Campsite 107.  Right on the water.  So far we were the only tent campers among several motorhomes and trailers.  Some of them quite large.

It occurred to me that folks trying to get outside sure bring a lot of ‘inside’ with them.  We set up our own ‘palace’ – a prototype 10 by 12 foot tent, which, by our backpacking standards, was absolutely huge.  You could walk into it standing up, nice.  This is our first experience with a large tent and one could get used to this.  I still like my 4 lb backpacking tent, but for car camping, this is nice.

We took a stroll on the beach and that’s where we snagged the shot of the eagle.  Jodi saw the  bird first and I started shooting.  It ended up landing in a tree right behind us and the camera was clicking away during the landing sequence.

After a quick nap off to Port Townsend to see Tom’s new endeavor.  Very nice spot and looks like the perfect way to enlarge the brand. 

Schooner Martha was there, looking pretty good, without spars or  bowsprit.  Her new colors look good, although I’ll aways remember her blue and white days.

There was also a sailboat race with roughly 100 boats descending on Port Townsend. 

Sunday morning dawned gorgeous and we hiked around Fort Flagler a bit.  The views are nice.  It’s as if one of the early settlers in the Sound said “it’s so beautiful with wide open views, lets preserve it for the public for years to come”. 

The actual sentiment was more like “with these views, heavy artillery would plaster any attacking vessel.  Let’s build a fort here and 3 more like it”.     Which is how Forts Casey, Worden, and Flagler all came about. Paranoia gets funded. The idea was hatched in the late 1800’s, executed in the early 1900’s, and before WWI broke out in 1914, they were obsolete. 

It is easy to criticize with the benefit of hindsight.  Or using what my father called one of the greatest inventions never invented.  The “retraspectascope”.  None of these forts, constructed at considerable expense, ever fired a shot of anger.  But now they are pretty cool.   

We hiked around the batteries where the gun emplacements used to be.  Wonder how many shells are at the bottom of the sound as a result of their target practice?

We did hear about a legendary ghost with a woman perpetually walking her hound mix within the darkend confines of the gun batteries.  I thought I saw her and snapped this picture.  You can see the hounds glowing eyes and the profile of the woman....

All too quickly, the weekend came to a close.  We like Fort Flagler for a quick weekend get away.  Close enough to be a comfortable, no stress weekend getaway with reasonably close attractions.  Once the upper section is open for the summer, we’d camp there.  Slots can  be reserved, but August is probably a zoo.