The 2019 Salish 100, Day Three

Monday, June 24th

I woke up feeling fine, and poked my head out of the hatch to see a gorgeous morning. Sun, light wind, the last dregs of fog blowing off the water, another beautiful day ahead.

Glassy water, and Simeon on Noddy, still sleeping under his cozy cockpit cover

Arnie, Dave, and another M15 rafted up together, getting ready to depart

Another SCAMP looking cozy. Can't say the same about the boat that ended up on the beach! 

Check those tides, people...

The day's route would take us from Penrose Point State Park to Gig Harbor, passing through Hale Passage and the Tacoma Narrows, a distance of approximately 15 miles. Upon arriving we were to be treated to a BBQ hosted by Gig Harbor Boat Works. There also was a shower at the marina, which I was really looking forward to!

After enjoying another simple, pre-assembled breakfast, I tidied up the cabin, got my gear sorted for the day, and prepared to raise anchor. With the light breeze I decided to just sail off my anchor and depart quietly. I raised my mainsail, and began hauling my anchor line. I was startled to see my anchor easily pull free of the bottom, well before I was over the top of it! With any significant wind my anchor would have certainly dragged last night. It's possible that the rocking and rolling overnight loosened it, or maybe it wasn't set as hard as I thought it was, but it was an eye opener, and I was very lucky. Once I was directly over my anchor with the main luffing into the wind, I hauled in the remaining few feet of anchor rode, hoisted my jib, and sailed away. 

The wind was very light, and several other boats and I sailed sedately out of the bay and into Carr Inlet. About halfway across the inlet I started thinking of my dear friend and sailing buddy Lee, who had passed away several years ago. We had done everything together and he was my co-conspirator on many adventures. I thought to myself, "Lee, you are supposed to be out here with me. Why aren't you here?!" and I started sobbing uncontrollably, missing him so much and wishing more than anything that he could share this grand adventure with me. It took me a while to calm down and pull myself together. Every time I'm on the water I think of him and all the wonderful times we shared.

Once I crossed Carr Inlet the wind died and it was time to motor into Hale Passage

A newer model Montgomery 15 motoring down Hale Passage

Light winds in Hale Passage

Passing Fox Island to the South and approaching the Tacoma Narrows

I looked back to see Arnie catching up to me...

...and at a higher RPM he passed right on by!

Approaching Point Fosdick (Hey, I didn't name it!)

The wind started to fill in a tiny bit as I approached Point Fosdick and the entrance to the Tacoma Narrows, so I killed my motor and raised all sail. The tide was flowing north, so with a favorable wind I could make a quick passage. I started to cut the corner in close to the point, hoping for more wind and a boost in current as the water got shallower. A steady stream of gigantic powerboats was making the water so rough that it was hard to keep my sails full though, and I started drifting in closer to the point. As I cursed the noisy stinkpots the wind died completely and I started to spin in circles, completely out of control. The current and waves from the powerboat wakes started to push me in towards shore, and I decided to start my motor and get out of there. I pulled, and I pulled, and nothing. Now I was 20 feet from the rocky shore, and getting rapidly closer. Anxiously I pulled, pulled, and frantically pulled some more. Nothing! When I needed it most it looked like my motor was going to fail me and I was going to end up on the rocks! I could see Sunkissed, a distinctive orange Montgomery 17 rapidly approaching under power, no doubt intending to throw me a tow rope and pull me off the rocks, but with one more massive desperate pull the cursed motor roared to life, and under full throttle I threw the helm hard over and averted disaster, skirting the point by 10 feet at most. Lessons learned? Never approach an unfamiliar point to leeward in light wind under sail with a-hole powerboats buzzing around you every thirty seconds. And thank you for having my back, Sunkissed!

The rest of the trip to Gig Harbor was mostly a blur. I was flooded with adrenaline, and just motored the entire way. The was no chance I was going to risk shutting off the motor again until I was tied to a dock, or to another boat! The entrance to the harbor was quite narrow, and I was happy to be motoring through it, and even happier when Dave and Arnie saw me approaching and offered a spot for me to raft up next to them, which I eagerly accepted. 

So happy to be in Gig Harbor!

Approaching the raft-up 

Safely rafted up to Dave's boat Naomi, with Arnie opposite. 

A small part of the S100 fleet

Once we were all settled everyone jumped in their dinghy and made a beeline for the marina showers, the first shower since leaving for Olympia, five days ago! We almost felt like human beings again as we headed to the BBQ put on by the Gig Harbor Boat Shop. Boatwright Tom Regen gave us a wonderful tour, and there was food and drink for everyone and a chance for all of us to hang out together and swap yarns about the trip. After gorging ourselves, Arnie, Dave and I found a small ice cream shop with the best huckleberry ice cream I had ever had! Well all then jumped in our dinghies and headed back to our respective boats, where I got inspired to row around the bay, while Dave raised the sail in his dinghy and went for an evening cruise. I slept very easy that night, knowing that the next day was an easy one with little chance of getting myself in trouble.

Racing for the showers

Arnie is winning

Gig Harbor Boat Shop on the right

Inside the shop with one of their current projects

Post ice cream bliss

Dave ghosting around the bay

Day three, estimated mileage 

The 2019 Salish 100, Day One...

Saturday, June 22nd

It ended up being a restless night, as would be no surprise to anyone. The boat was really noisy. The lapstrakes in the hull, which give it rigidity, also give the waves something to slap against, making a loud gurgling sound all night long, a quarter of an inch from my ear. I was sure I'd get used to it eventually.

Since many cruisers were arriving Saturday morning, there were two skippers meetings. We had missed the Friday one during our long drive, but I couldn't wait for the one on Saturday. It was a big turnout, and Marty ran us through the itinerary, the route, the safety briefing, and answered everyone's questions. There were going to be support boats along with us, which was a big relief to everyone, and the sheriff's boat was also going to be following along on the first day.

The skippers meeting, with Marty Loken briefing us on the first three days itinerary

Once the meeting was over, we had about an hour to get our last things sorted out before it was time to depart. My long-time sailing buddy, Bart, came by to wish me well and see the first day's craziness. I'm pretty sure he could see the nervousness written all over my face, but I did my best to hide it and smile confidently.

That's a look of confidence, isn't it?!

I checked in with Arnie, who admitted to having a rough time. He had not slept well at all, and was really nervous about the entire trip. Totally understandable: Arnie had only sailed a handful of times before this, and like me had purchased his boat just for this cruise. New sails had arrived the morning we departed and he had had no time to rig his boat, or test sail it with the new sails! This would be his first time doing many things on this cruise, and I was proud of him for taking on such a huge challenge, especially with his limited experience and skill level.

It's time to depart, let's go! I fired up the motor, cast off the docklines, stepped aboard, and slowly pulled away from the dock. My Salish 100 cruise had officially begun.

I could see in the distance many small boats had already departed, and it looked like I was going to start in the middle of the pack. I had a little issue getting my mainsail up, which was embarrassing, but once I had it sorted I raised all sail and shut off the motor. I was sailing!

Vanilla looking beautiful, Cupcake giving a false sense of contentment

The first day's route was Olympia to Henderson Inlet, an easy 11 miles. Marty warned us that the wind and waves can get pretty severe in Dana Passage, so I was cautious and ready for the worst. We made our way up Budd Inlet, and jostled for position and clear wind amongst dozens of small boats. It was only blowing 5 or 6 knots, perfect for gaining confidence on the first day. I didn't see Arnie, and felt kind of bad for leaving him, but also knowing that we were each sailing our own cruise, and would see a lot of each other over the next seven days. He ended up sailing close to a new friend he had met, Dave, and the two were going to stay together for most of the cruise. Dave had a much bigger boat, and gave Arnie confidence that if he got in trouble there would be backup close by. I thought it was great that he had support so I could get the most out of Vanilla, and try to get to our anchorage early. 

Passing north out of Budd Inlet, we turned east into Dana Passage. The wind stayed light, and mostly "on the nose", meaning tacking back and forth all the way. Fun sailing, and an opportunity to show your stuff as a solo sailor.

 Two boats on the water is always a race

A race that Bunny Whaler would easily win

Making our war East, down Dana Passage

I followed this Penguin almost all day, but never caught them

I hope Arnie is back there somewhere!

As we approached Henderson Inlet, the wind Marty had warned us about finally materialized, making for an exhilarating sail into the harbor. Most of the boats were making their way south to the shallower end of the bay, but I saw a group of SCAMPs anchored in close just inside a protected part of the inlet on the west shore, and I decided to anchor nearby. The anchor set firmly, and peace settled around me as I watched through my binoculars the boats arriving in the bay. I must have made a good choice because I was excited to see Marty anchor his boat only 50 yards away from me. 

Marty picks his spot to anchor

And surveys his flock as they arrive

Simeon, in his well known SCAMP Noddy, sails by for a visit with Marty

The view from my cramped cabin

Dinnertime! My kitchen, in all its simplicity. 

I watched Arnie sail in, looking great with his new sails, and hoped he would come anchor nearby. It being his first night though, he decided to raft up with Dave, a pattern that would be repeated for the entire trip. I was on my own!

As the stress and anxiety of the day was released, I started to develop a nasty headache. I hoped that dinner would help, and cooked up my usual backpacker freeze-dried food, with a cup of coffee. As I was finishing eating, I saw Josh Colvin, editor of Small Craft Advisor Magazine, row over in the most ridiculous pool toy of a rubber raft, and visit with Marty for a few minutes. Once they finished talking he rowed over to visit with me, and we had a really great chat. Josh is one of those people who makes you feel like you are instant friends--what a great guy. Unfortunately, neither the coffee or the pleasant company helped my headache, so I once again turned in at sunset and called it a night. The boat gurgled, my head pounded, and I eventually ended my first day on the Salish 100.

Day one, estimated mileages

The 2019 Salish 100, preparations

It all started with a conversation at the 2018, Wooden Boat Festival

in Port Townsend, WA.

Marty Loken, a local small boat enthusiast and director of the Port Townsend Pocket Yachters, made the announcement that he was thinking about organizing a new small boat cruise on Puget Sound (also known as the Salish Sea). After having missed a number of the Pocket Yacht Palooza "Palooza Crooza" events, I just knew that I could not miss this exciting opportunity. He called it The Salish 100, a small boat cruise from Olympia, WA, to Port Townsend, WA, a distance of almost exactly 100 miles, with as many as a hundred boats taking part, coming from all over the country! It sounded like so much fun I instantly signed up, and prepared to join the adventure. Of course, the first thing I had to do was get a boat!

Vanilla

Enter Vanilla, a 1984 Montgomery 15 sailboat. I had owned one of these boats before, and my sailing partner Arnie had actually bought and refurbished my previous boat, so the idea of sailing in tandem on sister ships was irresistible. Vanilla was in great condition, and was small enough to trailer behind my Subaru Outback, so I grabbed her from a seller in Port Townsend, and started outfitting her for the cruise. I vacillated back and forth on towing a dinghy, but in the end decided that the flexibility it would afford was worth the extra trouble to tow, so I added Cupcake, a 7 foot wooden dink to the fleet. (This decision was going to come back and bite me, but that's for a later chapter...)

Cupcake
Don't let the cuteness fool you, she is evil to the core

The cruise was set for June 21st, through June 28th, 7 days to travel 100 miles. It seemed do-able, but I was very concerned about being on a 15 foot boat with no inside sitting headroom for a week straight. What if it rained the entire time? What if the winds were too strong for my little boat? Did I have enough fuel if there was no wind? Would I be bored? Or lonely? How much food should I bring? What clothes should I bring? Would my anchor hold? Where would I go to the toilet?!?!?!? All of these questions were sorted out, (or ignored) and on Friday, June 21st, Arnie and I hitched up our little Montgomerys, and set off for Olympia!

On the road to Olympia

The trip to Olympia was an easy drive, and after rigging the boats in the Swantown Marina loading area, we launched from their very steep ramp at low tide. (After, I must say, what could only be described as a PERFECT job backing down. I'm still learning how to back a trailer smoothly, and I wish someone had a video camera going for that one!) Someone had stolen our reserved slip, so we just tucked in where we could and made ourselves secure. It was so exciting walking around and seeing the huge variety of boats already there, with more arriving every minute. Sailboats, row boats, powerboats, kayaks, and even a paddle boarder were taking part in this incredible adventure!

Vanilla, ready to go!

Arnie's (and my former) Montgomery 15, Iku Turso

A Welsford Penguin, with a beautiful canoe for a dinghy

Many boats had less accommodations than even this

So many cute little boats!

Grasshopper, the media boat for Off Center Harbor

Bunny Whaler, a former R2AK participant

A Hobie Cat?! Seriously hardcore, and he had a guitar with him!

A Michalak Scram Pram

A beautiful wooden cat boat

Montgomery row! There were a lot of Montgomery/Sage 15's and 17's on this cruise, 

they are very popular in Puget Sound

Sigh, one of my dream boats, a Welsford S.C.A.M.P.

Arnie had had the good sense early on to not only find us a place to leave our rigs in Port Townsend, but also secure us a shuttle with a friend of his, so the three of us took off for PT to drop off our cars and trailers so they would be waiting for us when we arrived at the end of the cruise. (Assuming we arrived. Gulp) It was a long drive after having already driven from Everett to Lake Stevens, and then down to Olympia, and it was unfortunately made longer by a horrendous motorcycle accident that shut the two lane road down for over an hour. We eventually made it though, and after dropping off the rigs we hopped in Bob's uncomfortable BMW, and drove right back down to Olympia! That much sitting in a car could only be offset by a massive pasta dinner, and being sailors and cheapskates we stormed Olive Garden for some mediocre Italian style food. After gorging ourselves we could hardly keep our eyes open, so we said farewell to Bob, and crawled into our cramped cabins for our first night aboard of the cruise. I didn't think my nerves would let me sleep, but I was so tired I turned the lights out around 9pm. Despite the noisy gurgling of the water against the lapstrakes in the hull I was soon fast asleep.

We were really going to attempt this thing.