Mark Welpman sent us the story of his six day cruise last summer circumnavigating Bainbridge and Vashon Islands, complete with photos. We did not have space to print the entire trip. However we printed a sample; if you started reading it there, you can finish reading it here.
Or start from the beginning
I am an ordinary man living an extraordinary life.
I woke just before the alarm at 0245. Again I find the puppy had found her way to my pillow and was sleeping on my head. The mongrel puppy came with the beautiful woman sleeping next to me. Somehow the beautiful woman and the pup had come into my life and had become an important fixture in it. But that is another story for another time. I tried to stealthily vault from my bed on to the floor as not to wake the beautiful woman. The bed is far too large for the bedroom. Two of the four sides of the bed are against the wall and there are way too many pillows. I sleep against the wall and the beautiful woman bars my exit to the open side of the bed. Dismounting the bed by kicked my legs straight up into the air and thrust my body into the standing position at the bottom of the bed. I was up, but not fully awake. The two things that came to mind were to start the coffee and brush my teeth. My mouth felt as some small furry creature had taken up temporary residence in my mouth for the night.
The coffee was on and the furry creature was evicted with tooth paste and mouth wash. I scrambled to do some last minute work and finish packing the coolers. I started to pack the truck with provisions when Sam, my sailing partner on the trip appears in my entryway.
Sam is my father’s middle brother and the only surviving brothers. Since the death of my father, Sam and I having always been close are now very close to one another. We do a great number of things together and traveling is a shared passion.
Sam had already put his things into the truck and was helping me with loading the coolers. We poured ourselves a last cup of coffee, Sam was off to the truck and I was kissing the beautiful woman good-bye. Mounting my trusty steed, a Ford F150 truck, we headed for the American Girl. The American Girl is a 7.5 m American Mariner Sailboat. She was built in 1980 and I appear to be the forth owner. When I found her she was sitting on a trailer under a fir tree. She seemed to have been put to pasture. Several thousand dollars and many, many hours of elbow grease later, she has been resurrected back into the fine sailing vessel she was meant to be.
We arrive at Swantown Marina at 0400. Twilight was lighting the eastern sky as we walked down the boat. Sam and I took to finishing up our pre-underway and putting the American Girl to sea. By 0430 we were backing the small sailboat from her slip and starting our little adventure.
As the tide was high we cut across the channel and motored out over the shallows. Crossing the island just outside the marina we had a sounding of 12 feet, no problem crossing the shoals today. The beautiful women and I have run aground twice trying to do the same thing and a much lower tide. Rounding Priest Point Park the sky was starting to glow orange and yellow. The air was cool as we motored. The day promised to be very hot as the weatherman forecasted. As for the moment I pulled on my hoodie and enjoyed the cool air. The sun rose as we rounded Boston Harbor. The tide was moving fast through Dana Passage. Sam had spent most of his time on the water in flat bottom boats on lakes and rivers. He had not experienced time at the helm of a keeled boat in boiling waters. He took the helm from Brisco Pt. to Dickerson Pt. and did quite well through the swirling waters. He maintained course with only minor 30 degree course changes. We motored without incidence around Johnson Pt. into Case Inlet, round Devils Head Drayton Passage.
As we rounded Osto Pt on the north side of Anderson Island a stiff breeze chilled me to the bone. Before we passed Eagle Island through Balch Pass, I was wrapped in my old submarine camo blanket very light weight and warm. I found myself snuggled up warm and content. I had arranged my pillow in such a manner as to be reclined much as you would be in a chase lounge. My head cocked to one side as to look down our port side of the dog house to watch our heading. My hand and arm were propped up on the tiller so I could easily maintain course. Within minutes I realized that the effects of the two cups of coffee had worn off and I was having a problem staying awake. The sound of the motor rang in my head much like the songs of the Sirens. I like the sailors in Homer’s Odyssey and I was lulled into deep sleep. Not a good thing to do in a narrow channel like Balch Passage with McNeil Prison Island off of our port side.
Sam was on the binoculars like a tourist at Disneyland looking at every little thing. He did not see me fall to sleep. He did notice the course change that was heading us directly at the Prison Pier, Barge and Tug getting under way. I woke with a start when Sam asked very calmly “is there any reason why we are going to the prison island?” When I opened my eyes, all I could see was a big black barge and tug. They were about 100 yards away, but waking from deep sleep, I did not know where we were of how we got there. I assessed the situation in what seemed like and hours, in about 2.5 nanoseconds. Cut the motor and turned hard to starboard. The deckhands on the tug must have thought me to be out of my mind. They stood there with bugged eyed and dismayed. The tug and barge had cast off all line and made headway. I was nearly dead in the water and tried to look as though I meant to do that. Later Sam told me that he thought I was awake, because when he looked at me, I was sitting upright and looked like I was awake. I had sunglasses on and he could not see my eyes. Needless to say the rest of the trip I had enough adrenaline coursing my veins to keep me wake and alert.
I’m always fascinated when I pass under the Narrow Bridges. To me it’s an astonishing feat to have built two magnificent structures. Not to mention we were making 8 knots good over ground in a six knot hull. We did get underway at 0 dark thirty to make it through the Narrows before the tides switch against us.
We arrived at Gig Harbor at a minus three foot low tide. Having been my first time by water to the harbor it was a little unnerving to see ground under the keel. We saw eight foot soundings on the fathometer as we traversed the spit. Our reciprocal moorage was at the far north end of the harbor. When we arrived we saw that there was only 80 feet of dock reserved for reciprocal, and of course there was a forty five foot wood powerboat, the Final Chapter, smack dab in the middle of the pier. So we turned around and made for the anchorage. We quickly dropped the hook and it made purchase. We rigged the dinghy and head back to the dock to see if thoughtful power boat captain would be saying long. At the head of the pier is a small shack that is manned. I asked the gentleman behind the desk what the deal was with the reciprocal and if the Final Chapter’s captain would move his boat a little as to let us in. The guy said “What the F” and marched right down to the boat. I laughed and told the guy, its okay to have a potty mouth, I was in on submarine and the way we talked could make a prostitute and truckers blush. He laughed as he knocked on the motor boat’s hull to see if anyone was aboard, with no answer, we untied the motorboat and made room. Problem solved. Sam and I climbed back in the dingy and fetched the American Girl and returned to the reciprocal dock. The sun was high in the sky and the day was becoming a scorcher. We rigged up the tarp over the cockpit and took much needed naps.
I woke up about two hours later lathered in sweat. I took a quick bird bath to cool off and was trying to figure out what we would do next. Sam suggested that we take a little walk into town and see what was going on. Now Sam at the young age of 69, having lived in Las Vegas the past 30 year could walk the feet off of a camel in 115 degree heat. Me, I’ve lived in the northwest for too long and anything over 69 is a heat wave. The thermometer in the boat read 98 in the shade when we went on our little walk about. Later I was told by the beautiful woman that the round trip trek from Gig Harbor Yacht Club to Tides Tavern was about three miles. When we arrive at our half way mark Tides Tavern, I told Sam that we had to stop for provisions. He agreed. Tides always the same quality of food and service did not disappoint us. We spent the better part of a half hour jockeying for a table in the shade on the patio.
The one thing about Tides patio is that there is always a show. This time the member of the cast of characters where the Chinook from Tacoma, a big honking power boat. Crewed by, I’m too sexy to for you, chest augmented brunet, with Who’s Your Sugar Daddy guy and along with several young girls who were very impressed with Who’s your Sugar Daddy. The seconded player was a 36 foot sailboat also from Tacoma. Crewed, by I can’t find a place to moor Sailboat Captain and I’m having a hard time helping Second Mate.
So the story is again played out with a large power boat not wanting anyone to tie up next to them. The power boat had about 10 to 15 feet forward of him and about 25 feet behind him. The sailboat made several attempts to land but could not find enough dock space. The Sailboat Captain asked the Sugar Daddy if he could move his boat up ten feet so he could tie up. He asked nicely if he could raft up to the Chinook. Sugar Daddy told the sailboat to pack sand. Me I would have told the jerk to please move up or I would raft up next to him. But that’s me; I’m not a nice guy. The result was the poor Sail Boat Captain maneuvered to the shore side of the dock and tried to swing the boat 180 degree turn in a very tight area. Because the Captain and the First Mate were not communicating well, bumper and lines were being franticly switched form starboard to port sides. While the boat was still making headway the Captain jumped from the boat to the dock. The Second Mate still trying to get line and rubber from one side of the boat to the other. As the boat came to rest, the bow was a few feet past the end of the dock. The Captain tried to arrest the boat. He seceded but up ended in the drink as a result. At this point I could not take it any longer and ran down and assisted the sailboat tying up. The old sailboat Captain was very grateful for my help. He did have a few choice words for Who’s Your Sugar Daddy. I am constantly amazed by the actions human beings.
Sam and I finished our drinks and made our way back to the boat. I was completely melted by the time we got back. I took the hose and showered on the dock next to the boat. I’m sure the folks eating dinner at Anthony’s enjoyed the show, or considered calling the police. Okay I did keep my board shorts on. Please I did not want to scare the children. Feeling much refreshed I took a short nap.
Earlier in the week I had made arrangements with a sailing buddy of mine, Will, to meet up with us somewhere on our little adventure. I called Will and he said he would come get Sam and me. Around 1930 Will shows up with his girlfriend and his sister. Sam declined to go out with us. So we all head back to Tides. We all had laughs and cocktails. The evening was cool we enjoyed funny antidotes about sailing, family and friends. A few hours later Will poured me out of his car at the head of the pier. I stumbled back down to the boat and made my way to my bunk.
Evidently unknown to me God put in a 0200 wake up call for me. The upper level high that was sitting over western Washington broke. Cool air off the pacific spilled under the hot air that was sitting on the Puget Sound creating a 180 degree shift in the wind. So the calm night became very windy. My halyards started slapping the mast, clanging like a bell at an old fashion fire house. Try as I might to sleep through the clanging lines, I had to get up and silence the sleep preventing noise. Dragging my sorry hung-over butt out of bunk naked, I grabbed some oil absorbing rolls and climbed topside. The chilly air struck my body turning my grapes to raisins. I as quickly as a naked man could, I adjust the halyards and slid the rolls between the mast and halyard. This silenced the annoyance. As I dropped below decks I realized that my head was screaming at me and I was indeed suffering from a hangover. I tried to recall what I had to drink. It was not all that much. But then I recalled that I had nothing to eat all day. Having not hydrated myself or failing to eat and taken its toll on me. Hydraulic meals do not work well. I pounded down several cups of water, took a couple aspirins and crawled back in to bed. Sam later told me that he did not hear anything nor did he feel me get up and run around topside. The man sleeps like the dead. This was the first day.
Funny thing about Gig Harbor’s waterfront, there is no place to eat an early breakfast. So we ended up having blue berry pancakes on the boat. Having cleaned up and re-stowed the boat for sea, we cast off and made our way south to the mouth of the pretty little harbor. The sky was overcast and cool. A much appreciated change in the weather. We rounded the south point of the entrance of Gig Harbor and made way up Colvos Passage. I maneuvered the American Girl best I could in the channel as to take advantage of the prevailing currents. The run up Vashon Island took about two hours. Sam made us a nice lunch consisting of a large sandwich, right out of the can pork and beans, with chips. We were shadowed by a small gravel barge also taking advantage of the currents.
In what seem like an eternity we finally broke free of Colvos Passage and were in open waters. To the east we could see Seattle, to the north Blake Island and Southworth to the west. The current switched form pushing us to a head current. The water was considerably rougher. There was a lot of marine traffic. We made for the marina at Blake Island. The marina was nearly filled to capacity. A park host hailed us. At first I did not know that she was talking to us. She gave us directions as where to tie up to the dock at. We maneuvered in to a tight spot with the help of the park hosts and a few of the other boaters. This was very nice. The park hosts supplied us with useful information. We found out that the parks showers needed tokens rather than quarters. Each token gave you three minutes of hot water. The Host also warned us that the island raccoons had been on a rampage and were pulling nightly raids to boats in the harbor. Sam I and planned to sleep topside to fend off any sorties that might be made by rascally raccoons. Sam was scared. He said that raccoons are cute but mean.
Sam and I walked up to the visitor’s center and asked about the salmon dinner. I had read that if you arrived by boat that the dinner and show where half priced. We found that dinner was $39.95 each. Needless to say we enjoyed a boat cooked dinner that night.
We decided to walk the perimeter trail of the island. For some reason I thought that the island would be a relatively flat walk. So I wore sandals. It turns out the island is very hilly and I walked three miles in the wrong shoes. The trek was very beautiful. Before we knew it we were back at the visitors’ center. We made our way back to the boat gathered up wash kits and made for the showers. Sam headed up before I did. I met him coming back from the showers. I asked if he bought some token and he said no that he took a cold shower and it was fine. I thought what the hell, I’ll do the same figuring that it had been warm and the water could not be all that cold. I was wrong. The water took my breath away. I took the fastest shower in history. Sam laughed as thanked him for his advice.
After we changed clothes, I walked up to the breakwater and enjoyed the view of the Sound. It was very peaceful. The wife of one of the rangers was walking the pier reminding the boaters of the marauding raccoons. She stopped and talked to us for a while and told Sam that we might catch a fanatic sunset from the other side of the island. We poured ourselves a drink for the trail and made for the beach on the other side. We sat on an old log and watched God paint us spectacular sunset. We sat and talked about my Dad, and our lives. Sam told me that sunsets made him sad. Perplexed I asked why. He explained that as he has grown older that it’s a reminder that one more day of his life has passed by. A reminder how precious each day is and how important our family and loved ones really are.
Arriving back at the boat it was time to bed down for the night. Sam decided to sleep below. I’m sure that he was afraid of the roaming hordes of raccoon ready to stage raids on unsuspecting boaters. The cool air felt wonderful and I slept very well. At about 0100 I woke to sound of rain on the tarp. I looked to see if anything was getting wet as saw one of the most wonderful sights I had seen. As the rain drops hit the surface of the water, bioluminescence was excited making what looked like thousands of tinny flash bulbs flashing on the surface of the little harbor. I sat and watched mother nature’s little light show for a long while. I fell back to peaceful slumber. About an hour later, I woke to the sound of thunder. This time a breeze had kicked up and blew a little rain under the tarp. So I collected my bedroll and headed below decks.
I woke up at 0830, it was the best night of sleep I had in two nights, though I woke up twice the night before. It seemed that Sam was up before me and was off on a walk about. I was up and was done with my morning routine. The water was on the stove and boiling. Pouring the boiling water over the waiting grounds in the French Press, the coffee aroma filled the cabin. Yes I’m and an addict. I poured a cup and made my way topside. I watched the other boaters and they moved about the pier. I love to watch the people. I am amused at the going on of the pier. I was trying to find out what time low tide was. I wanted to make way and have the flood tide to push us up through Rich Passage. I was talking to one of the motorboat skippers and he was telling about his boat. He came out of Lake Union though the locks for a weekend trip to Blake Island. He was quite proud of this twin counter rotating screw. He was a true Mr. Big stuff. When he asked me which boat was mine, I pointed over to the American Girl and he said when I get a big boat I would understand. I just laughed and told him it was great talking to him. It’s a funny thing having a small boat no one wants to play on your boat. I guess I can’t blame them. Perhaps when I have a big boat I’ll be just like them. I hope not.
Soon Sam came back from his walk about. He told me that the concession stand has big waffles. He laughed that the boaters would come up get their waffles and by the time they got back to their boats the waffles would be cold. By the way the waffles looked great and cost $5.50. I recommend that if you buy a tasty waffle that you eat it at one of the picnic tables next to the concession stand. We walked back to the boat and I made up a big order of egg beaters and turkey bacon. Am I tuning into a new age vegan want-a-be? Not a chance. In the middle of cooking the bacon, I heard a helicopter circling. The sound was growing louder and I looked out the hatch and saw the life flight coming in for a landing. Later we found out that they had flown in for yearly training with the Kitsap Fire and Rescue. We enjoyed our big breakfast and made ready to get underway.
We put to sea around noon. The tide had shifted and was pushing water the direction we wanted to go. Exiting the harbor was interesting because we had a minus 2.9 foot tide. There were rocks on either side of the narrow channel and we could see the bottom in the clear water. The fathometer called out 12 feet of water under the keel. We exited the small marina and turned north by northwest towards Rich Passage.
On the way up to Rich Passage I was looking for the pesky Bremerton to Seattle ferry. Anyone sailing these waters has encounter a ferry and know about the three to four foot wakes they create. Not to mention the fun of looking down the barrel of a super ferry bearing down on you. It’s almost as fun as a big commercial tanker or container ship close encounter. No ferries in sight, one spotted in Elliot Bay and no sign of the other ferry. I knew that we would meet somewhere in Rich Passage.
Crossing the water from Blake to Rich Passage we encountered two dive boats. Though I was about three hundred yards away, one of the topside dive crew got a little excited and started to wave me off. Having spent many years as a Navy diver, I’m very aware of rules and distances you should stand off of a dive operation. I tried to hail them, but they were not monitoring radio traffic. The crew was not flying the code bravo flags, though it was obvious that they had two divers in the water. Both boats had hoses in the water. We gave them a wide birth and continued on your way. We entered Rich Passage and made 6 Kats over ground. We were flying though pass and no sight of those pesky ferries. We passed Middle Pt and were setting up to make your turn west around Pt Glover. I was considering cutting the corner, when appeared around the point the bow of the Walla Walla. She had not slowed for the turn yet as she had not rounded the point. We steered for the east side of the Pass and to allow plenty of room the mincing ferry. She made her tune form east around the point to the south. I’d say she was making 10 Kats through the turn. Of course making a course change put a knuckle in the water and a very impressive wake. Yahoo I thought, I could not have found a better place to encounter the ferry. We turned west into the ferries’ wake. The first wake was about three foot and an even deeper trough. The bow of the American Girl topped the wake and dove for the trough. I thought that the bow would dive under the next wake and take clear water thought the forward hatch. A flash of really bad scenarios played through my head. The bow did not dive though the wake as I thought she might and we popped up over the peak of the next wake. But now we had the front half of the boat airborne. The little boat came down with a crash and the prop was whining as it too was in the air. I was trying as best I could to take the wake and an appropriate angle as not to damage the hull. We repeated the belly flop a few more times before things started to settle out.
Don’t look now, but we had the wake coming at us at a 90 degrees from the direction we just hit us. Because the ferry turned we were catching the wake form course that the ferry just came. The wakes were much more manageable that from the wakes kicked up in the turn. We took a few big rolls but that was about it. I’m sure the folks lining the rails enjoyed the show.
We followed the swirling waters to take advantage of the incoming tide. By 1500 we were entering Port Orchard Marina. We followed the break water docks around to the perimeter of the marina to the guest docks. A big powerboat squadron was hosting a sail in and most of the dock was reserved. They had a big party tent at the end of the dock and were preparing for a big barbecue. Sam and I found a slip at the bottom to the gate leading to the dock. We tied up secured the boat. The guest dock is huge. They had a changing combination lock for the bathrooms and the gate to the guest dock.
We walked up to the harbor office and registered. It cost us $22.50 for the night. Not bad. We received a canvas bag with a ton of information about the area with coupons for dining and shopping. We even received a free suction cup clippie to display our registration form on. Sam and I went up and took showers. The shower facility is included in the moorage fee. The restrooms are very clean. I took a very long hot shower. After Sam and I had cleaned up we explored the waterfront and the main street just off the marina. We found several restaurants, bakeries, bars and shops. But no markets near the waterfront. You’d have to travel up the hill a bit to get provisions. We made our way back to the boat, took naps and relax for the rest of the afternoon.
Early evening we sat in the cockpit and enjoyed cocktails watching the sun set. We decided that dinner was in order and we up to the main drag and had some dinner. The diner was very quiet for a Friday night. We pretty much had the joint to ourselves. The waitress was a young girl and had a baby at home. We enjoyed light conversation and ate our dinners. We found out that the town was pretty quiet and only a couple of places had anything going on. Karaoke was in the bar adjoining the diner and we could hear a band playing across the street. Sam and I poked our heads into the Karaoke bar. It was pretty much dead in there, so we crossed the street to see the band.
Crossing the street we walked up on some local girls also going to the bar. A rather handsome big boned, short bleach blonde and her friends were walking the same way. I remember my mom saying something like “don’t make eye contact” and they would not bother you. In this case it did not work and the handsome blond asked me what I was doing tonight. It kind of triggered a fight of flight response in my head. I said thank you but I’m with someone, hoping it would leave me alone. As we all walked into the bar and on to the back patio where the band was playing, she said that if I changed my mind to come over to her table. Something a about a snow ball and hell ran through my head. Sam and I found a couple of chairs in the back of the patio and sat down and enjoyed the show. The band played to around 2300. When the band had finished the crowed thinned and we decided to make our way back to the boat. When we came to the American Girl we saw the motor squadron was having one hell of a party. We investigated the goings on and found that most of the folks were pretty smashed. It was getting late and we were not in the mood to mingle. So we walked the short trip back to the boat and got ready for some much need sleep.
Photo: 7
I woke up early. As for most trips after about four days out, I start to think about what I need to do when I get home. I start working on my workload and figuring out what I need to do when I get back. The problem is that I wake up early in the morning thinking about it and I have a hard time getting back to sleep. Such was the case for this morning. I got up, did my morning routine, gather my camera and headed out. It was around 0630 when my head breached the hatch. The sun was high enough the sky to color the clouds. It was cool but very humid. Up on the pier I took a couple of photos and proceeded down outside guest dock to take a few more photos.
This activity lasted about 15 minutes and I needed something to do. I wandered back to the boat grabbed my laptop and looked for a coffee shop to catch up on some journal entries. I found a little Bakery that was open and had a nice little sitting area to enjoy your coffee and confections. I bought a cinnamon roll and a cup of French Roast coffee. I found my way to an overstuffed couch sat down and enjoyed my coffee. The confectionery delight was a bit too sweet for me, but very good just the same. I spent the better part of the next two hours writing. I gather up my things and head back to the boat.
Upon arriving back to the American Girl, I found that Sam had gone. I stowed my gear and grabbed my wash kit and head for the showers. When I entered the restrooms I saw Sam’s things were there. After we showered and put on a fresh set of clothing, we sat out for some grub.
At the top of the dock there is a park, and on Sundays they have a small farmers market. We walked it to inspect the wares for sale. We found nothing of interest so off to breakfast we went. We found a little restaurant that doubled for a nightclub open. Sam ordered up a breakfast steak and I had a Taco Omelet. Breakfast was pretty good for the most part. Sam’s steak was a little over done but good, my omelet tasted like combination between taco meat and a salt lick. I believe I ingested my yearly supply of salt in one sitting. We paid our tab and went out on a little walkabout waiting for the appropriate time to depart as to catch the tides. We checked out the fuel prices and found that they were not too bad a $3.27 a gallon. We did find out however that the Marine Diesel was out of commission due to a leak in the storage tank and would be out of order for the summer.
We departed at around noon and made our way east towards the passage that runs between East Bremerton and Bainbridge Island. We ran up as close as we dared to PSNS to get a look at the Navy ships and subs. It was tough for me to see several 688 class Submarines sitting in mothballs. Seeing the boats reminded me of my younger days and the adventures riding boats under the sea. We shot past the Walla Walla loading at the docks and ran the Bremerton Waterfront. Wow, what big changes are going on down there. I’ve sailed these water for the past 17 years in submarines and small boats, now it’s difficult to find a familiar landmark on the shore. I believe change is good. It looks like a bit of Seattle collided with the old Bremerton. I believe I like it.
As we past the entrance to Dyes Inlet, my nemesis the Walla Walla blew her horn getting underway and past us to starboard. As she was just getting up a head of steam, she did not produce the roller coaster wake as the day before. About 45 minutes later we rounded Illahee State Park and were running north toward Liberty Bay. It was getting hot on the water, so I covered myself best I could with a long sleeve tee shirt. Brownsville Marina past us to port as we continued north. Soon we spotted Pt. Bolin and Keyport and changed course to enter Liberty Bay. We found Poulsbo Yacht Club reciprocal to be the second marina as you come up on Poulsbo. The public piers are the last marina only a couple hundred yards to the north.
Poulsbo Yacht Club has 230 feet of floating dock reserved reciprocal moorage. When we came up on the reciprocal, we found four powerboats taking up the entire dock. Lucky for us I was able to bring the American Girl up the stern on one of the last boats with inches to spare. The skipper looked a little nervous as my pulpit was only a foot from his stern. As I walked up to register, I noted that each powerboat had 15 to 20 feet of space between their boat and the one either side of them. Four boats took up nearly 200 feet of waterfront. Turns out they spaced the boats out to make room for a late arriving friend. Very dirty practices indeed, no wonder windbags and stinkpots don’t like each other much. On this trip I learned that the bigger the motorboat the more rude the skipper.
Sam and I walked the facilities and found them to be very nice. At the top of the pier is the club house and they have set aside restrooms with coin operated showers, a coin op laundry room and Ice. Ice is $1.00 per 5 lb. bag and is on the honor system. I picked up two bags and made our way back to the boat. After we had settled in, I called an old shipmate of mine, Jason. A few hours later Jason came down to the boat. He was nice enough to run us into town for provisions. We top off fuel and picked up a pizza. We returned and enjoyed the sun set and cocktails. Sam walked into town for a couple of hours. Jason and I stayed on the boat and told sea stories late into the night. Around 0100 Jason departed and Sam and I tuned in for the night.
Again I was up early. I made coffee for as Sam was up showering. We needed to underway early as to shoot Agate Pass. Neither one of use were very hungry, so we went without breakfast. It was cloudy and the wind was blowing from the south. I thought to myself, yes we get to sail finally. Five days and not a puff of wind and today there is plenty. We cast off line at about 0730 and were clear of Liberty Bay by 0800. We were driving into head winds and seas. It was pretty choppy rounding Pt. Bolin and we finally turned and had following seas as Suquamish Casino came into sight. We ran to the east side of the pass to get into the best position for shooting the pass. The Agate Pass Bridge was in sight and we lined up on the makers. When I set up for motoring, I had the motor running at 4.5 kts. As we entered the shallow channel running through the pass, we found ourselves making 9.6 kts over ground. We shot through the pass in no time and were passing Port Madison before we knew it.
Now the wind was blowing somewhere around 12 Kts. As soon as we cleared the pass I put up the canvas. What a great sight to set the jib and the main full of air. We tacked east as to clear Bainbridge Island. As we tacked we made 6 Kts good by GPS. At this point we had to make a decision, continue north or make a course for home. I myself wanted to turn north for at least one more day, even thought the monkey of building work waiting for me at home was growing. So I was torn. I left it up to Sam. Sam pondered and said let’s head south. Soon we found ourselves mid separation zone in the middle of the Puget Sound transit lanes, looking across at Richmond Beach north of Seattle. We tacked to starboard and started to beat up wind. The first tack we make only a couple hundred yards progress. So we stated beating up wind making a few hundred yards each tack. The problem with the American Girl is that she does not have a full keel. She draws only three feet of water, thus she doesn’t point to weather very well. Keeled boats made better progress, we floundered. Three hours of beating up wind only produced about one mile of progress. So the canvas came down. We fired up the iron horse and motored into the weather.
Soon we past south of Bainbridge Island, Blake Island was to Starboard and Seattle to Port. Again I said to Sam, we need to make a decision, do we make port at Blake Island or ports further south. Sam chose south. By this time we were being pushed with a flood tide and make 6 Kats plus down the Sound. Heading south through East Passage we rounded Vashon Island. By this time the wind had calmed down to nearly no wind. We rounded Robinson Pt and the light house. By this time we had been transiting for nearly six hours.
I was growing wary of the helm. I felt like we were going nowhere fast. Sam was looking aft and I saw the expression on his face change. I turned to see what he was looking at and saw a large container ship rounding Robinson Pt. She looked as long as the channel was wide. Within a few minutes she passed us to port and was heading to the Port of Tacoma. My guess is that she was at least 650 feet long and traveling at about 15 kts. The wake on this baby was impressive. As the wake was overtaking us we were able to surf the wakes. I watched a runabout run up the wake and was complete airborne. When the small boat landed the motor staled. It took a bit of coaxing to get her going again. The merchant passed us in what felt like an eternity when we rounded the south end of Maury Island and made our way up Quartermaster Harbor.
We hugged the east side of the harbor enjoying the homes that lined the shoreline. We rounded the point with Dockton Marina Park to the south of us we made our way east and to the north around Burton. In a few minutes Quartermaster Yacht Club came into sight. It was a very pleasant and a very protected mooring. The entire dock was reserved. But we chanced it and landed anyway. If we were to get kicked off the reciprocal moorage, it was a 20 minute motor back to Dockton for the night. We tied up to the very end of the dock. She was a wooden dock close to shore. The grounds keeper met us and told us that we were welcome to stay the night but we had to be out of there by 0900. They were running a summer sailing camp for the kids. We agreed that we would cast off before the kids arrived.
Sam and I rigged ship for port and explored the dock and surrounding area. Sam decided to stay on the boat and I took a stroll into the very small town of Burton. I was a bit of a climb to get up to the street. The trail out of the yacht club is quite steep and does a switchback. Half way up the trail they have a small shed for the dock carts. One of the carts was an electric assisted cart. You would need an elephant and a small boy to cart anything big in or out of there. I found the climb to be a bit taxing. I was very worn out from the long transit form Poulsbo. It was a short 10 minute walk to town. The town consisted of one stop sign, a church, auto mechanic, small general store, closed of course, and a restaurant serving gourmet hot dogs, hamburgers, and beer. They had a small two person band singing Mommy Earth songs and some music from the sixties and seventies. The town resembled something out of an old summer movie. I believe the movie “The Summer of 42” came to mind. The shadows were growing long and I felt the need to find a place to lay my weary little head. Ten minutes later I was sharing my fact finding mission with Sam.
We were having evening cocktails when an old salt was motoring up in his home built tri-merman that he built in 1965. And she looked it. He had a slip at the yacht club that he sublet in the summer. He came over to the visitors dock to wash off the boat and fill up with water. I helped the old boy tie up I had a snack and went to bed. The skipper of the old boat and the grounds keeper sounded like longtime friends. The both chatted for a long while. Sam and I finished up our drinks and turned in early. I was snug in my bunk before sunset. The sandman found me early that night and I slept the best that I had in many nights.
Sam and I both woke up early. We both walked up to the club house and did our morning routines. I was back on the boat making coffee and getting the American Girl ready for getting underway. We were off the dock by 0800. The air was cool and crisp and quite delightful. We made our way over to Dockton. We tied up at the base of the dock. I started to pack up the boat for home. I made up a big breakfast of Chorizo and eggs, bold coffee and hot tortillas. Great boat food indeed. As there were no showers at the yacht club, I took a shower while we were tied up. We had to wait until 1300 for the tides to switch from an ebb tide to a flood time so we could run the Narrows. Sam and I killed time by reading and relaxing. We reminisced about the trip and how well it went. I have to say that my worldly chores where building up in my head. I could have easily turned the bow north and kept going. Soon it was time to head south and make the final leg home.
The motor home was not notable but for the boat we raced home. As we came around Point Defiant, I swung wide to catch the current. As we did, a boat making the same speed was coming out of Gig Harbor. She was just ahead of us and I used her to gage the currents. I seemed like we both making turns for 5 Kats. So me being competitive as I am, it was a race. The challenge was to see who knew the currents better. Of course I had to spy out my completion with my binoculars. It was some old guy so I natural thought that he might know the waters better than me. I tend to lean thought the school of hard knocks, so I’m an expert of what not to do. It was a race. As we passed under the Narrows Bridges, he was 200 yards ahead of us. By the time we ran between Anderson Island and McNeil Island we were taking turns passing each other.
I ran wide rounding Otso Point. He ran close to shore. I cut hard to port to close the range. He had me by about a fifty yards. I pulled in behind him and he eased out to run mid channel. He chose to run close to shore. The currents ran up Drayton Passage but the current ran faster close to shore. I started to pass him and rounded Devils Head close to shore. We caught the current and made a half knot more speed. He rounded Devils and caught the back current and lost head way. Entering Nisqually Reach I went wide to mid channel and picked up a half knot more. He chose to run closer to the north side of the channel and I stated to walk away from him.
The gap widen as we rounded Johnson Point. Again I ran wide to catch the currents and he chose to run close to the point. I had made that mistake many, many times and knew of the back eddy that stalled head way. As we ran down Dana Passage, we opened the spread to nearly a half mile. Rounding Boston Marina he was far behind us. We rounded the point and changed out fuel tanks for the last few miles home. We had wind and of course it was in our face. What big tease. We spent the last hour quietly completing our trip. Five days after crossing buoys marking the final turn into Swantown, we entered port. The landing was uneventful. We quickly stowed the boat and gathered our things and made for the truck.
Moments later we found ourselves on the freeway driving home. I found myself longing to head back to sea. Soon I was driving up my drive way looking forward to seeing the beautiful women and the mongrel dog. I opened my door and walked up the stairs calling out “Honey I’m home”.
Mark Welpman
