The past few weeks, we have given cruising a try. One trip around Hartstene, and four days in the San Juans. The Hartstene trip was fun, sailing all the way from Jerrell Cove to Hope Island, exploring Hope ’s many trails. Then on around Hartstene next day. Our timing is not always the best, we hit Dana Passage on the flood ! ! But as there was no wind we were motoring and soon noticed a nice back eddy on the south shore where the anchored boats were hanging “upstream ” so got through easily enough. From Point Wilson on it was clear sailing, in gradually increasing winds, right back to Jerrell Cove.
The San Juans were something else. We sailed across Rosario Strait from Skyline, running and reaching with a light wind and an ebbing tide. Hitting Lopez Pass at the beginning of the flood was all perfect although we had to motor through as the islands completely blocked the wind.
Sailing once more, we checked out the islands along the Decatur shore, a solitary whale, and several seals with pups. Finally we came to anchor off Spencer Spit as all the buoys were occupied early in the afternoon on a Tuesday.
Wednesday we sailed from Spencer Spit thru Harney Channel, and the Wasp Islands, headed for Stuart Island. Compared to our Star, and San Juan 21, the MacGregor 26 seems huge. But in the islands, it is scarcely more than a dinghy. Enormous cruisers paraded past in droves, creating a constant rolling wash which shook the wind from our sails. Then we hit the rip from Speiden Channel as the flooding tide relentlessly shoved the ebbing tide back toward Waldron Island. The waters piled up like whipped cream, waves breaking from several directions and there was no wind to fill our sails. We motored to Jones Island, never getting away from the rip as it seemed to pace itself to our speed.
Finally the rip began to die away. We could go on to Stuart, but looking through the thicket of boats on moorings in the bay on the north side of Jones, Dave saw a bit of dock space and we were afraid if we went on, there would be no room even to anchor at Reid Harbor. He nosed the bow in and I got ashore to hold the bow at the dock while he walked the stern around the bow, like winding a narrow boat into a “180 ” on the canals. We just fit, and elected to stay there overnight, along with a bunch of cruisers, a West Wight Potter from Roseburg Oregon. A couple of Lightnings full of campers anchored near the shore.
Lady Washington motored into the bay, explored all possible anchorages, sent the long boat out to sound, and finally came to anchor, with a line ashore for insurance. She made a pretty picture with the rays and reflections of the setting sun glinting off of her spars.
We hiked across the island and sat on a log, watching kayakers lug load after load of camping gear from their boats to the campsite up in the meadow. After the fourth trip a couple of the group had begun to sound like mutiny. They would have been perfectly happy to camp on the beach and save so much hauling, after paddling all morning to get to the island.
Thursday was a day of good winds. We set sail just outside the bay of Jones Island and fairly flew around the end of Orcas, across Deer Harbor and through Pole Pass. Navigating a narrow channel like that is always fun. Have you gauged the tide right, should you pull up the board, will the wind quit, or worse yet veer at the last minute? Will we get there before the next “Gin Palace ”? We popped through, followed by two motoring sailboats. With this much wind we could deal easily with the powerboat chop, charging at hull speed past Orcas Landing, Shaw Island, Upright Head, Humphrey Head, and on across the end of East Sound. Heading for the town of East Sound, or Rosario, or even Olga would have meant beating into an ever increasing wind, so we took the easy way out, reaching across toward Willow Island, finally pulling down a reef to reduce heel. An easy jibe with shortened mainsail and we slipped behind Frost Island to snatch the last buoy, once again secured at Spencer Spit. Then came a long evening of hiking the trails, reading, cooking, and admiring the sunset.
Friday was foggy. The horns hooted in Rosario Strait. Boats materialized from Thatcher Pass through a screen of cottony mist. This was a good morning to make pancakes, swab the decks, back splice a frayed line. Anything to delay venturing out into the mists.
Finally the fog lifted, we could motor through Thatcher Pass, power boat chop bouncing us about, now splashing even aboard our high bow, then causing the prop to whir helplessly in air as the stern rose on a wave. Ugh. When we cleared the buoy at the entrance to Rosario Strait there was fine southerly curling white tips onto the waves. A close reach became a beam reach, then a broad reach as we adjusted the sails to the ever seaward drift of the water. It was only a bit over an hour later that we were motoring sedately between the pilings at the entrance to Skyline Marina.
When the mast was down and everything secured for lifting out, we learned the hoist had been broken down for a couple of hours and the typical Friday launching and hauling was behind schedule. So we waited our turn, helping move boats into position under the hoist, and away from the hoist, and talked with people from all over, who had been cruising the islands, or were on their way to do so. Finally we were invited to put the boat into the slings. Ten minutes later, the tank was drained, the boat on its trailer and quickly tied down for the road.
After long days in the sunshine and the wind, in the beautiful cruising grounds of the San Juan Islands, it is nice to be able to take to the road for the final trip home. The one problem with trailer sailing; finding a really good restaurant for dinner with enough parking for a 26 foot boat behind the truck.
Jean Gosse