TAKING REFUGE IN CANADA
WHEN AN EMERGENCY STOP IS REQUIRED INBOUND FROM HAWAII, AN AMERICAN COUPLE FINDS SHELTER ACROSS A CLOSED BORDER
F
ive hundred lonely miles west of Cape Flattery, the sickening sound of cannon fire sounded through our Olympic Adventure 47, Galapagos. Then, our backstay— which had parted at the SSB insulator—came tumbling to the deck. It was July 23 and the idyllic part of our passage from Hawaii had abruptly, and scarily, come to an end. After securing the rig, we motored on a rhumb line toward Cape Flattery, relieved we had a full tank of fuel since we had been sailing for the entire passage thus far. Our relief was short lived. The following day, forecasts showed gale force winds developing between us and the strait. Even on a good day, that didn’t sound like much fun. With a compromised rig, it sounded
48º NORTH
dangerous. We needed a plan, and fast. We had these options: stay at sea in a probably-safe area that our weather router (Rick Shema) had forecast for us; or run to Vancouver Island, 150 miles away, and cross a closed border. We had no sails up at this point. Our genoa was piled on deck and secured. Our mainsail was down. If we stayed at sea, we would be taking a chance that the weather would not get worse. We would have to stay within the defined area and keep a constant lookout for ships. If the front shifted toward us we would have to run somewhere else. Any way you sliced it, sitting at sea would be multiple days of very high stress for us and we were already fatigued.
28
OCTOBER 2020
