I was hanging from a State buoy off Hope Island looking northwest at Deception Pass. Or rather I was looking at the wall of fog that was pouring through the gap that was the Pass. The edges were soft and wispy, you could see through them. But looked at straight on it was a soft gray wall, filling the Pass and spilling out into the bay before melting in the sunshine.

I had left Everett yesterday. I was taking Sugar Magnolia home to Olympia solo, after the Son of Pitch Regatta. I was taking the scenic route. The plan was to spend the night at the Pass, but when I arrived the Pass was full of fog. Whidbey Island shielded Saratoga Passage and I had gotten use to the blue skies with warm sunshine. I decided to catch this buoy, rather than spend the night in the fog.

The current was beginning to turn, just about to start flowing out The Pass was looking much the same in the morning as it had yesterday afternoon, a soft wall of gray. There was nothing to be gained by waiting, unless I was willing to wait for days.

So I raised the main, slipped the buoy, and headed off toward the fog. Before entering the Pass I fired up the outboard, to have it ready just in case. This was what they call slack current, but as I entered the grayness I was riding an outgoing current more than I was sailing.

I held the south shore. The fog was lighter close to shore. I could see into Bowman Bay as I went by. After that I lost sight of the shore except for the tops of the trees. They stuck out above the fog, giving me some idea as to where the shore was. I could see the bridge when I went under it, though I could see only the top of Obstruction Island. Everything at water level was lost in the soft grayness.

Soon there were no more trees on my left. No trees visible meant it was time to use the compass. The fog was no thinner this side of the Pass. Taking a right I headed into Burrows Bay. I wanted to avoid the traffic in Rosario Strait as long as possible. I killed the outboard and enjoyed the quiet as I sailed north.

With nothing to see but gray all around I left the jib on deck. I was going fast enough considering and I could see better without it. It was not until I passed Alan Island that I could confirm my dead reckoning. It was clear on the north side as the fog flowed around the little island, leaving the lee side clear. It was the first thing I had seen clearly since entering the fog.

I knew the head of the Bay was coming up. I had to turn left out into the Strait before Sugar Magnolia found Fidalgo Island with her keel. However I did not want to turn too soon, before I was at the pass between Burrows and Fidalgo. I was watching my watch, but I knew the current would get us there early. And it did. At the first signs of the fog lightening, I turned west. It did not seem any too soon. I could hear waves against a beach I could not see . Sure enough, there was the pass right where I wanted it.

Being the lee side of Burrows, the pass was free of fog. But the island is small. I was soon in Rosario, which was just as foggy. There was more wind out from behind the little islands, a Force 3 southerly. I sailed along the west side of Fidalgo Island, far enough out I could not see it. Hopefully close enough to be out of traffic.

At the north end of the Island I had to cross to Cypress Island. It worried me anytime I had to leave the shelter of the shore to cross a channel. I could not think of a single oil tanker I wanted to meet in the fog. The radar reflector was up, but I know better than to count on being seen. It may have done its job though. The fog cleared a little to reveal a ferry coming out of Guemes Channel. She was on a crossing course, but going dead slow, radar antenna turning.

I made it across to the relative safety of the Cypress side. I never saw much of the Cypress Island though. I proceeded along the shore without really seeing it until it was time to cross the Strait. This was the narrowest point, so as to cross quickly. This is the main channel for the shipping into Vancouver. Had they known that 150 years ago, this would be the national boundary.

Crossing was uneventful. Once across I nearly ran into Blakely Island though. The east side of the island is a cliff. I did not see it; then there it was like a wall in front of me, the top hidden by the fog. I was closer than I wanted. The cliff extends under water, so I probably could have gone close enough to touch it if I wanted, without finding bottom. I did not want to.

The original plan was to follow the shore and go through Obstruction or Peavine Pass. But the wind was fair and a schedule should not mean too much when you are cruising. I continued along the west side of the Strait, to Orcas Island, then along its east side.

It was not too long after that before I broke out of the fog into the bright warm sunshine I had left behind at Hope Island. No more worrying about ships. Time to enjoy the wind and sun I came for.

Steve Worcester, Star 6932