48° North - March 2025 - Digital by 48° North

Introducing the ZEUS® S ULTRAWIDE

With an all-new aspect ratio, the Zeus S ULTRAWIDE chartplotter delivers B&G’s most streamlined and immersive sailing experience yet.

ULTRAWIDE DISPLAY

Choose between 12” or 15” ULTRAWIDE displays for a sleek, modern look that transforms your cockpit. The simplified design provides a cleaner, more functional helm setup to elevate your time on the water.

DESIGNED FOR SIMPLICITY

The Zeus S ULTRAWIDE is built for efficiency, with customizable splits and easy-to-read data views. Core features like SailSteer, LayLines, and StartLine are accessible with a single touch. Dedicated Sailing Modes for cruising, racing, and anchoring help keep navigation intuitive and stress-free.

NAVIGATE FAR AND WIDE WITH C-MAP®

Experience unparalleled clarity with high-resolution C-MAP DISCOVER™ X charts, crafted specifically for the ULTRAWIDE display. Enjoy precise detail, automatic updates, and essential safety alerts, so you’re always ready to explore new horizons.

30 48° North Boat Test: Gig Harbor Navigator 10

Trying out a knockabout tender with a fun sailing rig.

An Unconventional Path North Patience prevails on the outside route to Alaska in the spring.

Foray Into Cruising

After years of racing, a family of four cruises their Catalina 27.

Austin

COLUMNS

Close to the Water: Boat in a Basement

A friend built a beautiful boat, but will it fit out the window?

Bateau

Hikes for Boaters: Desolation Sound

Lesser known hikes and vistas in this cruisers’ paradise.

Casting Off: Reflections on the Water

How the book “River Horse” helped frame boat ownership.

How new proximity regulations around killer whales may affect Puget Sound Racing Rules.

New spin on the classic: this year’s course was counterclockwise.

A light air affair deep in the South Sound.

ON THE COVER: Aaron Schofield’s Arcona 380 Raven’s Haven fends off Zachary Tuck’s Farr 395 Zulu Tango in the third event of the Southern Sound Series, the Toliva Shoal Race. Photo by Sean Trew.

Background photo courtesy of Andy Cross.

I love the month of March in the Pacific Northwest. In amongst late winter’s wild weather swings, signs of spring are intermittent but unmistakable. On land, the hopeful beauty of crocuses and cherry blossoms catch your eye or perhaps your nose. In marinas and on the water, however, the new season buzz is in the crinkle of crisp sails, the sheen of burnished bottom paint, and groups of foulie-clad friends warmly getting reacquainted and caught up in spite of still-chilly temperatures as they rig and ready their boats.

Whatever your waterborne plans for the coming year may be, they’re almost certainly taking shape in March. It might be assembling a crew for a long passage or testing some recently-installed system in big breeze. It could be getting to know a new boat, finishing a pesky project that you’ve put off until now, or putting in that PTO request for a summer cruise. Or maybe it’s making use of this month’s longer evening daylight to get out for a few after-work chances to bust that inevitable bit of winter rust.

Though there are exceptions—more cruising events are popping-up early in the season—it’s often the sailboat racing community that is the first to gather en masse and cheer the start of a new season in earnest. To me, nothing on the calendar says springtime quite like Corinthian Yacht Club of Seattle’s Center Sound Series. It’s pretty amazing how 500 sailors can transform the marina environment from offseason serenity one day to enthusiastic pandemonium the next. Since it’s the first race of the season for so many sailors, the vibes are primarily giddy anticipation and excitement; though if the breeze is up, some will be expressing (or hiding) a few nerves too. The dreariest conditions can’t dampen spirits on a Center Sound Saturday. It’s a highlight of the year for me.

48º North

Volume XLIV, Number 8, March 2025 (206) 789-7350

info@48north.com | www.48north.com

Publisher Northwest Maritime

Managing Editor Joe Cline joe@48north.com

Editor Andy Cross andy@48north.com

Designer Rainier Powers rainier@48north.com

Advertising Sales Ryan Carson ryan@48north.com

Classifieds classads48@48north.com

48° North is published as a project of Northwest Maritime in Port Townsend, WA – a 501(c)3 non-profit organization whose mission is to engage and educate people of all generations in traditional and contemporary maritime life, in a spirit of adventure and discovery.

I'll see you on the water,

The change of seasons is thrilling, but it’s also a part of the bigger rhythm. The marine ecosystem and the maritime industry don’t hibernate. The waves and tides never sleep. It’s comforting and uplifting to see these seasonal markers and traditions each year; and their repetition is affirming. But after all of the PNW springs I’ve known, somehow I still have the simultaneous thoughts: “Wait, it’s March already?!” and “Thank goodness it’s finally March!”

Springtime is coming, again, and the sunny season will follow. And how wonderful to be a boat geek in the PNW with that kind of assurance and possibility?

48° North is Asking for Your Support, Please Give!

Joe Cline Managing Editor, 48° North

As it happens, March is also the time of year when 48° North asks for the support of our incredible community of readers. We are a non-profit publication that is available to you and everyone for free. And we are equal parts proud and humbled to be made possible inpart by your generous contributions. Thank you to all who have given already and any who will do so this year!

Your support is an essential part of our operations and strategic planning, and is also beyond meaningful to me and our team on a personal level. I have long believed that it’s better to ask for your support than to imagine requiring a fee for our magazine or online content, and we hope that you agree.

If you enjoy 48° North, believe in what we do, and you have the ability to give, please consider donating this month!

Northwest Maritime Center: 431 Water St, Port Townsend, WA 98368 (360) 385-3628

48° North encourages letters, photographs, manuscripts, burgees, and bribes. Emailed manuscripts and high quality digital images are best!

We are not responsible for unsolicited materials. Articles express the author’s thoughts and may not reflect the opinions of the magazine. Reprinting in whole or part is expressly forbidden except by permission from the editor.

SUBSCRIPTION OPTIONS FOR 2025

$39/Year For The Magazine

$100/Year For Premium (perks!) www.48north.com/subscribe for details.

Prices vary for international or first class.

Proud members:

Photos by Jan Anderson

LETTERS 8

Question About Anchoring in “Learning Curve” Article

Hello Andy,

I really enjoyed your “Learning Curve” article in the January issue of 48° North, and I am encouraged by your validation of what we learn sailing in the Pacific Northwest and British Columbia, and how useful it can be in other climes. Thank you.

I had one question, which is in the “weather planning” section, where you mention hunkering down at Portland Island to face a 40-knot storm by setting two anchors and two stern ties. We’ve only sailed for about 8 years, and it seems there are a couple of opinions on the best way to set two anchors—either separately, in a V off the bow on separate rodes, or in-line, on the same rode. Which have you found best to use?

Model Shown Beta 38

Beta Marine West (Distributor)

400 Harbor Dr, Sausalito, CA 94965 415-332-3507

Pacific Northwest Dealer Network

Emerald Marine Anacortes, WA • 360-293-4161 www.emeraldmarine.com

Oregon Marine Industries Portland, OR • 503-702-0123 info@betamarineoregon.com

Access Marine Seattle, WA • 206-819-2439 info@betamarineengines.com www.betamarineengines.com

Sea Marine Port Townsend, WA • 360-385-4000

info@betamarinepnw.com www.betamarinepnw.com

Deer Harbor Boatworks Deer Harbor, WA • 844-792-2382 customersupport@betamarinenw.com www.betamarinenw.com

Auxiliary Engine 6701 Seaview Ave NW, Seattle WA 98117 206-789-8496 auxiliaryeng@gmail.com

This summer we are planning a trip to Northern BC, over to Haida Gwaii, and then down the west coast of Vancouver island on our Tartan 3400, Monty.

Thanks for your help with my anchoring question!

Carl Davis Orcas Island

Author’s Response

Hi Carl,

Thanks for your email. I’m glad you enjoyed the article and found it useful. In the situation described, I prefer the V-anchor set off the bow. I try to make the V a 60 degree angle and, in the instance of Portland Island, we set the main anchor first and then took the secondary out in our dinghy and dropped it, and then pulled it tight to set it.

Cheers,

Andy

48° North Readers Spotted in the Wild

Andy Cross Editor, 48° North

While swinging on a mooring in Salt Pond Bay, St. John, U.S. Virgin Islands recently, a reader from Seattle came over in his dinghy to say hello, as he’d recognized our boat, Yahtzee, from my articles in 48° North. I stopped by their chartered cat later that afternoon to have a beer and some great conversation about cruising in the Pacific Northwest and beyond. Thanks, Hans and crew!

Anchor in depths of at least 25 feet when boating in the San Juan Islands. Anchors do not hold well in eelgrass, and they damage the habitat of crabs, salmon, herring, and more!

Download a free eelgrass depth map to help guide where you anchor!

Friends of the San Juans

Maps, apps, and more at

INTERNATIO NAL YACHT RACE SWIFTSURE 2025

swiftsure.org #swiftsure MAY 24 – 25, 202

Three Long Courses

• Swiftsure Lightship Classic, PHRF NW

•Cape Flattery, PHRF NW & ORC

• Ju an de Fuca, Monohull & Multihull, PHRF NW

• Inshore Course, PHRF BC

In honor of the 80th running of the Swiftsure Lightship Classic, The Skippers Meeting and 2024 Prize Giving will be held at the Royal Victoria Yacht Club, 3475 Ripon Road, Victoria, B.C., 2:00–5:00 pm, Friday May 23, 2025.

REGISTRATION OPENS

Monday, February 3 rd 2025 at swiftsure.org/ registration

Photo by Jill Fitz Hirschbold

News from Northwest Maritime

BLUE SCHOOLS INITIATIVE: BUILDING PATHWAYS IN MARITIME EDUCATION

Washington state’s maritime sector is in trouble. Despite the scale of impact it has on our state and the attractiveness of careers that pay $128,000 on average, people are retiring out faster than young people are entering. After 30 years of working with students and schools, Northwest Maritime (NWM) thinks it knows how to solve that problem by leveraging the Pacific Northwest’s marine environment, thriving maritime industry, and engaging local organizations. The endeavor is called the Blue Schools Initiative. NWM is seeking funds from the Washington State Legislature to build on this proven model and help replicate that success elsewhere, specifically Whatcom County.

Blue Schools is an innovative workforce development model connecting public schools, community organizations, and industry partners to create a robust system of maritime engagement and education. The focus is on increasing awareness and accessibility to the "Blue Economy," particularly for underrepresented communities, and building equitable

SHE TELLS SEA TALES

MARCH 8 AND 9, 2025

Celebrating its 10th anniversary, She Tells Sea Tales is a beloved event featuring sea stories told by the women mariners who lived them. Proceeds support Northwest Maritime’s women- and girls-centered educational maritime programs, including the Girls’ Boat Project. Both presentations sold out immediately, but it is an important enough event that even non-attendees should know about it!

Hilarious and heartbreaking, raw and brutally honest, She Tells Sea Tales offers an intimate glimpse into the lives of women in the maritime industry.

» nwmaritime.org/she-tells-sea-tales

pathways to maritime careers. This initiative operates on two core principles. First, workforce development begins with community engagement. Socializing maritime career opportunities, especially those less visible, is essential. Events like seafood festivals and hands-on learning experiences serve as critical entry points. Second, transformative learning happens at the intersection of commerce, community, and the environment. Environmental restoration projects, for instance, inspire skill development applicable across industries, while also connecting students to their communities

NEW CLASS SPOTLIGHT

MARINE NAVIGATION FOR WOMEN AND COUPLES: NAVIGATE YOUR WAY WITH CONFIDENCE – TWO-PART, IN-PERSON

Mar 29, Apr 5 | 10 AM–12 PM

$150 non-member, $135 member

Embark on a hands-on journey into marine navigation, tailored for women and couples. This beginner-friendly course offers essential skills for aspiring commercial mariners, equal sailing partners, or solo adventurers aboard private yachts. Small, in-person classes ensure a supportive and personalized learning experience.

» nwmaritime.org/events

and the broader maritime economy. By uniting existing resources, fostering a shared vision, and aligning efforts with statewide initiatives, the Blue Schools Whatcom Initiative aims to strengthen educational pathways and workforce development in the maritime sector. This investment will enhance access and expand opportunities around the region. Springboarding off the successes and proof of concepts of Maritime High School in Des Moines and Port Townsend Maritime Academy, NWM is excited to help Whatcom become a model for maritime education in Washington State.

» nwmaritime.org/blueschools

low tides » News & Events

A FLICKA 20’S PACIFIC ODYSSEY

Join sailor Joshua Wheeler on Wednesday, March 12, 2025 at the Port Townsend Sailing Association clubhouse for a presentation about his Pacific voyage on a Flicka 20. In August 2023, Joshua embarked on an epic Pacific Ocean odyssey aboard his Pacific Seacraft Flicka 20, Sampaguita. Beginning and ending in Port Townsend, WA, they journeyed down the North American West Coast to Baja, Mexico, followed the trade winds to the Marquesas, and returned via Hawaii. Josh will share some places visited, wildlife encountered, psychological “research” and equipment used in this singlehanded voyage of a tiny boat on a big ocean.

Food/Snacks/Beverages: 5:30 p.m. Showtime: 6:00 p.m. Reception: 7:30 p.m.

The Port Townsend Sailing Association Clubhouse, Nomura Building, 385 Benedict St. (Facing the Boat Haven parking lot).

» www.ptsail.org

LEARN THE SKILLS TO HELP LAND A COMMERCIAL FISHING JOB

The new Skills and Drills Course will be held March 27-28 in South Bend, Washington.

Washington Sea Grant is launching a new two-day program—the Skills and Drills Course—for people who want to gain hands-on experience performing tasks that may be required onboard a West Coast commercial fishing vessel. Taking place on March 27-28, 2025, from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., the course will cover the following topics: Basics of welding,

fiberglass repairs, vessel handling, navigation, maintenance of inboard and outboard engines, fishing gear repair (net mending and knot tying), marine hydraulics, marine electronics, and vessel cleaning and safe product handling.

The class is for anyone ages 18 and up who is interested in learning the necessary skills to enter the commercial fishing industry. No prior experience is needed and the cost is $100. Please contact Robert Maw at rmaw@uw.edu

RADAR AND MARINE RADIO FOR THE FIRST MATE

The Port Townsend Yacht Club will be hosting a radar and marine radio presentation on April 5, 2025, from 2 to 4 p.m. This is a 101-level class for everyone that wants to know how to operate these two vital pieces of equipment with confidence. It will focus on radar operation and tuning. For marine radio, it will focus on proper selection of marine channels as well as transmit and receive etiquette.

This is a not-to-be-missed workshop for those new to boating or those who are venturing into more extended cruising than they have done before. It will be led by Michael Asbury, who has cruised extensively over many years, leading successful yacht club cruises into the Gulf Islands and Broughton Islands. Soft drinks and snack food will be provided, and the event is open to the public. The Port Townsend Yacht Club is located at 2503 Washington Street. » www.ptyc.net

for scholarship information. Bring work clothes, deck boots, and rain jacket (you will be boarding a vessel and may have some outside sessions). Coffee, lunch, and all training materials and equipment will be provided.

The class will be offered at Bendikson Landing, 313 Robert Bush Drive, South Bend, WA. Space is limited to 24 participants and pre-registration is required. Register online at » bit.ly/wsg-skills-drills

Bellevue Sail & Power Squadr on, we are AMERICA’S BOATING CLUB of BELLEVUE

THE POWER OF EDUCATION…

• LEARN Improve your boating skills

• CONNECT—Join us as we support our recreational boating community

• ENGAGE—Fun activities

• ENGAGE Fun activities

• LEARN—Improve your boating skills

• ENGAGE—Fun activities

• CONNECT Join us as we support our recreational boating community

THIS IS WHO WE ARE!

• CONNECT—Join us as we support our recreational boating community

THIS IS WHO WE ARE!

To learn more about Bellevue Sail and Power Squadron and our classes and seminars, please contact Commander Willa Conrad at willaconrad41@gmail.com

Visit our website: Boating Classes | Bellevue Sail And Power Squadron | Bellevue (bellevuepowersquadron.org)

THIS IS WHO WE ARE!

Visit our website: Boating Classes | Bellevue Sail And Power Squadron | Bellevue (bellevuepowersquadron.org)

To learn more about Bellevue Sail and Power Squadron and our classes and seminars, please contact Commander Willa Conrad at willaconrad41@gmail.com

Visit our website: Boating Classes | Bellevue Sail And Power Squadron | Bellevue (bellevuepowersquadron.org)

low tides » News & Events

ANACORTES YACHT CLUB OPEN HOUSE—CHART YOUR COURSE TO ADVENTURE

You’re invited to join fellow boaters and Anacortes Yacht Club (AYC) members on Saturday, April 12, 2025, from 1 to 4 p.m. for an open house to discover the thrill of their competitive racing program, from weeknight sprints to weekend regattas. Explore exciting cruising options, from tranquil local harbors to exotic destinations. Learn from the best with AYC's comprehensive boater education program, covering everything from basic seamanship to advanced navigation. Come and meet other sailors/boaters and share experiences and stories. AYC is located at 611 Rotary Park Lane, Anacortes, WA.

» www.anacortesyachtclub.org

SAVE THE DATE: BOATS AFLOAT SHOW

The Pacific Northwest’s largest spring boat show arrives in South Lake Union, April 25 - 27, 2025. Produced by the Northwest Yacht Brokers Association (NYBA), this year’s show is now a three-day event that is scheduled just in time to celebrate spring and kick off the boating season. Also new in 2025, the show has expanded and now has in-water boats on display at H.C. Henry Piers—directly accessible from inside the main show.

This fun, family event has something for everyone of all ages (and kids 12 and under are free)! Whether you’re actively

looking for your next boat, or planning for a few years down the road, the Boats Afloat Show is a fun opportunity to step aboard some of the newest yachts on the market. Bring your best boating friends, your co-captain, your entire family. Show dates and hours for the new three-day format are:

• Friday, April 25th: 10 a.m. – 6 p.m.

• Saturday, April 26th: 10 a.m. – 6 p.m.

• Sunday, April 27th: 10 a.m. – 5 p.m.

More information can be found at:

» www.boatsafloatshow.com.

low tides » News & Events

CATALINA YACHTS RENDEZVOUS AT ROCHE HARBOR, APRIL 24-27

Catalina owners are known to have fierce brand loyalty. As it happens, they also throw a great party and their annual long weekend to connect and celebrate is coming at the end of April. If you have a Catalina, you’re invited!

Who doesn’t love a reason to get on the water in the spring? The promise of fun and fellowship in a fabulous location only makes it all the more enticing.

Whether you’ve been a Catalina owner for a few months or a few decades, the Pacific Northwest Catalina Owners group is hosting their annual Rendezvous at Roche Harbor Resort on San Juan Island. The four-day event begins April 24, 2025, and runs through April 27. There’s no limit on capacity, and the only fee is a $20 donation (per boat) to the group, plus the cost of moorage at Roche. Registration is open all the way up to the day before the event.

In the words of one of the organizers, Martin: This is an “Informal gathering of Catalina owners. We will have games, raffles, potlucks and presentations. Kids are very welcome.” Sounds like fun to us. You can expect a whole lot

of Cheeseburgers in Paradise this year, since the theme for 2025 is Jimmy Buffet. Folks interested in bringing their Catalinas to Roche Harbor for the Catalina Rendezvous should reach out to » pacifcnw.catalinas@gmail.com.

SAN JUAN ISLANDS

CROSSWORD AND TRIVIA

DID YOU KNOW?

by Bryan Henry

The sperm whale was declared endangered in the United States in 1970.

The blue whale, the world’s largest animal, can’t swallow anything much bigger than a tennis ball—its esophagus is only four inches in diameter.

It takes 100 tons of plankton to grow a one-ton blue whale.

Bowhead whales are among the longest lived animals on Earth, with life spans up to 200 years.

Orcas can live for 90 years. Some whale sharks and fin whales have lived more than 100 years.

Whales are cetaceans, a word derived from ketos, the Greek name for sea monster.

ACROSS

1 Coming about

5 Onboard crane

8 Measured distance in degrees from the Greenwich meridian

9 ____side: the portion of the hull above the water line

11 Raised railroads

12 Night before a big event

13 Engine mounted on the boat’s stern which powers and steers the vessel

15 Managed

17 Peach state, abbr.

19 A ship’s officer

21 Italian port which was the birthplace of Columbus

22 An anchor functions as one

23 Off the side of the boat and in the water

27 Sailor, informally

29 Musical pair

30 Military student

32 A navigational instrument used in celestial navigation

33 Personnel department, briefly

34 Small taste of a drink

36 The rising and falling of the bow and stern of a vessel

37 Without changes, 3 words

DOWN

1 Long handle used to steer the boat

2 A pivoting board lowered through a slot in the hull or keel to prevent the boat moving sideways

3 Situation where the boat has been turned directly into the wind and has lost all forward momentum, 2 words

4 Low-ranking soldier

5 US southwestern port city, ___ Diego

6 Experienced

7 Pieces of advice

10 An ___ salt (experienced sailor)

14 Get on in years

16 Just fine

18 Official orders

20 Requirements

22 An opening in the deck, providing access to the boat’s interior

23 Related to vision

24 Regret

25 Storage containers

26 Location towards the stern of the boat

28 Senior citizens’ organization, abbr.

31 Approximately, abbr.

35 Measure of acidity, abbr.

Whales and dolphins snore.

In the womb, baby whales have hind legs which disappear before birth.

Whales and dolphins can send out sound waves that are strong enough to stun other animals.

Beluga whales were nicknamed “sea canaries” by fishermen because they emit squeals, chirps, whistles, and other sounds.

During their six-month migration from Alaska to Hawaii, humpback whales lose up to eight tons of body fat.

Gases in the blow of whales move at speeds of 400 mph.

The whale shark—the largest shark of all—was not discovered until 1828.

Stingrays never see the food they eat because their eyes are on top of their head and their mouth and nostrils on the bottom.

The largest sea turtle ever found in the ocean was a leatherback turtle measuring 8.4 feet long and weighing 2,020 pounds.

Some sea turtles travel more than 10,000 miles in their life span.

low tides » Products News

» DRAINMAN BILGE PUMP

If you’re frustrated by always having to bail rain water from your boat after you’ve left it unattended, the Drainman Bilge Pump might be what you’re looking for. Perfect for runabouts, rowboats, tenders, daysailers, canoes, and other small vessels, Drainman is a bilge pump that efficiently removes all water from your boat without using electricity. Attach it to the end of a mooring line, the Drainman is powered by your boat’s movements pulling on the mooring line due to wind, wakes, and waves. Drainman can silently drain up to 26 gallons of water per hour. The Drainman bilge pump can also be installed in your dinghy’s towing line when moored or anchored. Water is expelled through a 9.8 foot hose whose end is positioned at the lowest point of the boat. To ensure proper hose placement, a small weight can be attached to the included eye-bolt at the intake. A sieve incorporated into the eye-bolt prevents debris from entering the hose and is easily cleaned.

Price: $92.42 » www.unimer.se/en/marine/

» SPINLOCK VENTURE KIT BAGS

Let’s be honest, sailors can never have too many functional bags for everything from tools to foul weather gear and more. Accordingly, Spinlock has recently launched a range of three gear bags that are durable and functional, and come in a variety of practical sizes. You can carry everything you need in their 27-liter backpack, 55-liter cabin size, and 100-liter gear bag. The backpack is ideal for adventures ashore, and features a breathable mesh back panel, sternum strap, side mesh water bottle pocket, internal laptop sleeve, and more. The cabin size has removable backpack straps, a large carry handle on top and four side handles, an external essentials zipped pocket, and an internal large zipped mesh pocket. For longer stints ashore, the gear bag has a large carrying capacity, top and side handles, and an external zipped pocket. The full range is constructed out of heavy duty lightweight nylon ripstop fabrics.

Price: Starting at $99 » www.spinlock.co.uk

» BARTON MARINE HB1

CONTINUOUS LINE FURLER

Being able to smoothly furl a headsail on a small boat is as handy as it is safe, and Barton Marine aims to make it even easier with their new HB1 Continuous Line Furler. Designed to provide optimum performance for dinghies and small yachts in even the most challenging conditions, the robust, lightweight and stylish Furler introduces innovative hybrid-bearing technology for the first time. The durable central shaft is manufactured from high-grade 316 stainless steel, and the sleek main chassis and fork from anodized 6061 aluminium, providing superior strength and durability. A combination of solid-state and Torlon ball bearings mean the furling wheel remains perfectly balanced and spins freely, even under the highest loads for maximum performance. Weighing just 175g, the feather-weight furler has an impressive safe working load and is suitable for 3/16-inch to ¼-inch furling line with toolless rope insertion making for easy installation with no parts lost on deck.

Price: $210.93 » www.bartonmarine.com

CLOSE TO THE WATER 20 BOAT IN A BASEMENT

We’ve all heard jokes about the guy who builds a boat in his basement, but who knows the punch line? Well, my family and I do, now.

I raised a skeptical eyebrow when my friend Bill, an aspiring woodworker, told me about his construction project. Oh, the lapstrake rowing boat sounded nice enough. It was a modern classic designed by Joel White to row and sail. The thing was, Bill was building the boat in his cellar. And a primary consideration in choosing the design, he confided, was whether the finished boat would fit through the window— which was the only means of getting it out of his workshop in one piece.

My family was even more dubious and intrigued about this venture than I was. They like boating just fine, but after they’ve been dragged along to more than one maritime event or another over the years, it can be challenging to get them excited about anything boat-related. But when I mentioned Bill’s project one night at dinner, my kids nearly jumped out of their seats with curiosity. And soon enough, the questions began flowing.

“His window is about twice the size of that skinny one over our couch,” I said, gesturing towards the living room. Although we’d lived in the house for a dozen years, everyone studied that window as if it had just materialized.

“That would make it about two by four feet,” Simon calculated aloud.

I could see the wheels turning in Nate’s mind. He grinned, “There’s no way a boat is going to make it out of a window that small.”

My wife just shook her head, inured by now to the odd notions

by Bruce Bateau

that take possession of sailors. After asking a few questions herself, even she conceded that a guy pushing a finished boat through a basement window sounded like something worth seeing.

In the ensuing months of scarfing, planing, and epoxying that it takes to build a glued lapstrake craft, I occasionally stopped by to see the progress in Bill’s subterranean workshop. Each time I descended the narrow stairs from his modest kitchen, I had to duck to avoid a joist on the way into the basement. There

Bill and a friend work on the boat in the basement. Will it fit out the window?

was no way anything as rigid as a boat could pass this way. The window placed high on the concrete wall opposite the stairs was the only possible way out. But would it be big enough? I would routinely stare up at the daylight hoping that Bill’s calculations were correct.

On each visit, I eyeballed the beam, and the increasing depth of the craft and compared it to the opening. The craftsmanship on the boat was excellent. The spiled planks met the stem cleanly—no epoxy filler there. Still, a boat is a challenging thing to build exactly, or to measure with all the curves and odd angles. Could he have deviated a tiny bit from the plans? Would Bill need to remove some of the window framing to get the boat out? Maybe he’d have to shave off the gunwales at the last minute? Bill was consistently resolute on the plan. Only time would tell if it would work.

It had been a few months since I’d heard from Bill, when an invitation for a “defenestration party” arrived in my inbox. My family cheered as I read it aloud. It concluded: “The particularly exciting part is that the boat is 16 feet long, just over 4 and a half feet wide, and weighs in the neighborhood of 140 pounds. So, as you can imagine, I need a bit of help. Oh, and many people don’t think it will fit out the window (I do have a younger brother, after all). I think you should be there to find out.”

There was no doubt that my clan would be present to cheer (or laugh). And when my kids arrived on that summer’s eve, they eyeballed the window with just as much doubt as I had.

“It’s going to get stuck!” Nate whispered to me, barely able to contain his anticipation… and laughter.

“Well, Bill tells me he’s measured it,” I said, trying not to chuckle.

Bill’s invitation had been specific about those measurements: “I’ll have about half an inch on either side of the boat at its widest point,” he’d informed us all confidently. “It’s going to be fun. Upon successfully passing the widest part of the boat through the window, there may be cheering.”

Speculation was rife as a crowd of a dozen people gathered, some in the basement, others in the yard, poised outside the window to help maneuver the boat out. With the basement crew, I grasped the side of the finished boat as Bill instructed us where to stand and how to angle it out. In the tense moment

before we lifted his creation, I tightened my grip on the nicely varnished gunwale. There’s a fine line between laughing and crying, I thought. In the next few seconds, Bill would probably do one or the other.

What happened next astonished my kids and almost everyone else. Five or six sailors—not all of them particularly burly—hefted the boat off its sawhorses, lifted it toward the small window, and after following Bill’s animated arm motions, angled it neatly through. By the time my wife ran around the house to photograph the phenomenon from the outside, the boat had already been received by the ground crew and set on the grass outside. The entire procedure had taken less than five minutes.

Cheers and shouts greeted Bill as he scrambled out of the basement to pose proudly by his boat. For the next hour, the party crowd kept giddily saying, “I can’t believe it!” Not Bill, though, he just smiled.

Still curious about how to get a boat out of a basement? I know just the man to ask.

You can see Bill’s art and boat projects at his website: www.wessingerwoodworks.com

Bruce Bateau sails and rows traditional boats with a modern twist in Portland, Oregon. His stories and adventures can be found at www.terrapintales.wordpress.com

Bill proudly sails his basement-built boat on the Columbia River.

Instructions are given to get the boat out of the basement window.

HIKES FOR BOATERS 22 DESOLATION SOUND

Desolation Sound has long been a mecca for cruising boaters. Muriel Wylie Blanchet wrote about her family trips of the 1920s and 1930s in the classic, “The Curve of Time,” and Pacific Northwest cruisers could surely pen volumes of love letters to such a breathtaking destination. Its draw extends beyond the region as well, with charterers arriving from around the world to explore this beautiful locale.

Desolation Sound is the large area stretching east from the northern end of the Strait of Georgia that includes many islands, bays, and inlets along the mainland shore. There are numerous opportunities for hikes, both short and long, that are easily accessible from a variety of anchorages. For hike-happy cruisers like us, a good anchorage with access to multiple hikes is something particularly special. Here are three of our favorites.

MALASPINA INLET’S COCHRANE ISLANDS

The Cochrane Islands, about two miles into Malaspina Inlet off its west shore, provide room for several boats to anchor between the islands and the shore. We’ve found the bottom to be rocky in places so you have to choose your spot with care. Once well set, we have always felt secure here. It’s rarely crowded, but if you can’t find room it’s only a short dinghy trip from other nearby anchorages in Malaspina Inlet. At the southwest corner of the anchorage is an obvious, rocky beach with a somewhat flat shore area. This used to be a designated camping area

by Michael Boyd

on the Sunshine Coast Trail, which goes between Saltery Bay and Sarah Point, but the trail has been rerouted around this site and there is no camping here now. However, remnants of the older trail, currently unmaintained, head both north and south, and meet up with the main trail after a short walk. When we take these paths, we mark any uncertain areas with surveyor’s tape so we can find our way back since the trail is slowly becoming overgrown. Taking the path to the north, we have hiked all the way to Sarah Point. This makes for an interesting albeit long day, since the distance is about 10.7 miles round trip.

Going south, you first climb to Wednesday Lake in about 1.5 miles. The trail continues gaining elevation to Manzanita Bluff where there is a major campground to go with its expansive views to the west. At that point, you are almost due east of the town of Lund but you can’t see it because of the hills and trees. We like to watch the water taxi going between Lund and Savary Island. If it’s warm, you can always grab a swim in Wednesday Lake on the way back; there’s a nice rocky bluff overlooking the lake. Round trip to Manzanita Bluff is 6 or 7 miles.

Photos by Karen Johnson

TENEDOS BAY

Tenedos Bay is the very first place we ever saw in Desolation Sound (we flew in on a float plane to meet a boat we had chartered) and it continues to hold a special place in our hearts. The center of the bay is too deep for convenient anchoring but there are many places to anchor around the edges, several of them quite intimate; attention to tides can also be important for some. We particularly like 3-Fathom Hole behind the unnamed island, if it isn’t already filled. Most boats are often found near the outlet stream from Unwin Lake.

Unwin Lake is accessed via a short trail from the east corner of Tenedos Bay that follows the outlet stream. The lake

appears after a quarter mile but the best areas for swimming are along the rocky west shore of the lake, so you need to backtrack a bit to a bridge across the stream shortly before the lake. We have taken a dip here many times over the years since our first time in 1987. Sometimes we want more of a hike, and get it by continuing on the trail along the lake until it heads into the forest and meets a trail coming in from the left. This new trail leads past several lakes and eventually comes out at an old log dump in Melanie Cove, Prideaux Haven, about three miles from Unwin Lake. It is a boater-maintained trail and only gets cleared of blowdowns every few years, which means in off years it can be rough

going. The first lake you pass has a spur trail leading out a peninsula to a lovely swimming spot, though we didn’t swim when we were there. Just as we were about to go in, quite surprisingly, the phone rang. We had accidentally buttdialed 911. So instead of swimming, we spent our time convincing the RCMP we weren’t actually in danger; not so easy to do when you are at an unnamed lake off an unofficial trail in the middle of an unpopulated wilderness. We have adventures of all sorts on our hikes.

ROSCOE BAY

The cruising guides all warn about the entrance to Roscoe Bay, which has a bar across its entrance that dries at zero tide.

Putting on boots at the beach in the Cochrane Islands.

Heading north to Sarah Point.

End of the Unwin Lake boater's trail in Melanie Cove, Prideaux Haven.

Managing blowdowns on the Roscoe Bay boater's trail.

Believe it! We always double check our tide chart before entering, just to be sure, and only come here when the conditions are right for both entering and leaving. Once inside, the anchoring is excellent with good holding and moderate depths, though a stern tie will be required in

high season because this well-protected anchorage is very popular.

The main source of Roscoe Bay’s popularity is probably Black Lake, which is but 10 feet above the level of the Bay and only a short walk away. There is good swimming and we’ve seen folks with kayaks on the lake. We prefer to hike the trail along the north shore ending at a rocky area that slopes gently into the lake. Perfect for informal swimming. Round trip from the dinghy is 1.2 easy miles.

While Black Lake is clearly the main attraction here, for hikers there is more. At an old log dump on the north shore of the bay there is an overgrown logging road, and then a trail that leads to the summit of 2,165-foot Mount Llanover and expansive views. The last section of the trail in open forest is very steep. Judging by the fact that we have always met others on the trail, the 8-mile round trip appears to be fairly popular.

On our last trip, we discovered a new (to us) boater-maintained trail—one step above a bushwack, really—that starts on the south side of the bay just inside the

entrance bar and goes up to the top of the ridge above the bay. From the trail end at about 850 feet above sea level, there are good views through thin trees out over Desolation Sound towards Prideaux Haven. The trail ends at a vantage point but the ridge does continue on for the intrepid hiker wanting to extend the trail. Up to this point it is fairly well-marked with surveyor’s tape, at least once you’ve made your way past the major blowdown right near the beginning. It’s about 2.2 miles round trip, but the challenging route-finding made our progress slow— it took 3 hours including our short lunch break. Just another hiking adventure.

Desolation Sound’s picturesque appeal is well known and documented for cruisers near and far, and rightly so! Including some lesser-known hikes and vistas on your next visit will only add to the richness of your adventure.

Michael and Karen have been cruising the Salish Sea and beyond for more than 20 years, hiking every chance they get. For more resources for hikers visit their website: www.mvmischief.com/library/

Looking west from the summit of Mt. Llanover.

Getting ready to swim at the end of Black Lake Trail.

REFLECTIONS ON THE WATER

HOW THE BOOK “RIVER HORSE” HELPED ME FRAME MY TIME AS A SAILBOAT OWNER

by David Casey

When it comes to describing the nuances and challenges of many hobbies and careers, their singleword title often falls short of conveying the actual requirements of the endeavor. My career as a teacher, for example, required far more skills than simply teaching , like classroom management, collaboration, and record keeping, to name just a few. Upon retiring, I found that my woodworking hobby was more about measuring, patience, and design than cutting and planing wood. Similarly, in the past few years of boating on Puget Sound, I have discovered that sailing is not as much about trimming sails as it is about anticipating and responding to the wind, waves, weather, and mostly, my own limitations.

I was reminded of this while reading William Least HeatMoon’s “River Horse, A Voyage Across America.” The chronicle of his epic journey from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific on the most iconic rivers, lakes, and tributaries in the country is a story of planning, perseverance, and more than just a little bit of luck.

no way comparable to the Herculean achievement of the author and historian.

My recent completion of the epic tome happened to coincide with the process of selling Ariel, the Columbia 28 that my wife, Laura and I purchased upon moving to the Pacific Northwest from California a few years ago. As I say goodbye to our beginner boat, I find that Heat-Moon’s insights into his personal and physical struggles provided me with an introspective forum to review my own journey over the past three-and-a-half years of sailing—though in

What struck me in reading Heat-Moon’s travel log was the battle, or perhaps dance, between failure and achievement, boredom and exhilaration, and fight or flight that was so prevalent throughout his adventure on a C-Dory 22 and sometimes, when the water depth was too shallow, a motorized aluminum canoe.

Coincidentally, a C-Dory is one of the boats that has caught my attention as a replacement for our old sloop, and a strong component of his journey that I found particularly relevant. Laura and I have been on the lookout for boats with enclosed cabins as we accept our inability to adjust to the cold winters of the Pacific Northwest. A C-Dory is one of many boat models that fulfills that requirement.

While our must-have list starts with warmth and comfort, Heat-Moon chose the vessel for its durability, size, and trailerability, since the journey across the country by water was often blocked by dams and shallow depths. Even the C-Dory’s 30-inch draft when loaded, and the scant eight-inch depth when empty was too much for several miles of shallow waterways during the spring flow, before the snows of the Rocky Mountains had turned to massive torrents.

Heat-Moon describes his vessel as a cross between a Maine lobster boat with a turn-of-the-century harbor tug. He coined her name, Nikawa (Nee-kah-wah) from the Osage words, ni, river, and kawa, horse. The author reluctantly admitted that “the design of Nikawa made her look like an illustration from a children’s reader, and her lines sometimes drew people who— more often than we cared for—used the word ‘cute.’”

But the sweetly pejorative reference to her profile in no way applied to the small boat’s sturdiness. After a frightening thrashing on the tumultuous waves of Lake Erie, Heat-Moon telephoned the builder of Nikawa to ask whether she could continue to take such beatings. His response: “The C-Dory can take it. The question is whether her crew can.”

The incident on Lake Erie was one of several dangerous occasions that the crew of Nikawa encountered, as peril and risk often took over as a predominant feature of his undertaking. Heat-Moon confessed on more than one occasion, “Because moving water is—and I do not overstate this—death waiting, the pilot cannot just put the boat on cruise control, sit back with two fingers on the power-steering wheel, and daydream through a spell of monotony.”

While I never felt that our time aboard Ariel was a deadly risk, and I rarely piloted the old sloop with complacency and daydreams, our initial plunge into the world of sailing did carry a similar, though far less frightening concern and fear of the unknown. Our inexperience and lack of knowledge often resulted in either excitement or apprehension, or both simultaneously—apparently states of being not foreign to most sailors. Even Heat-Moon confessed that “Adventure was putting into motion one’s ignorance,” and a more fitting title for his book could have been “In Praise of Ignorance.”

The author-historian began his journey early in the summer of 1995, initially with three “companions:” his good friend, whom he refers to only as Pilotis; his boat, Nikawa; and The River, an indication of his respect for the natural entity upon which he lived and traversed for over three months.

Along the way, he picked up another traveler, “The Photographer,” who paraphrased my belief about misnaming hobbies and endeavors with a comment several weeks into the 100-plus day excursion: “It takes time to see that a river is not just about water.” Pilotis elaborated further by adding that the most difficult river that they traversed, the Missouri, “is like a Roman Deity—powerful, playful, cantankerous, lusty, profligate, changeable, dangerous, yet still interested in the humanity that approaches it.”

A few of those same descriptors may be said of Puget Sound based on our experience as we sailed a portion of the massive waterway with our small sloop over the past few years. Our home waters of Commencement Bay are often serene, calm, and majestic. But on rare occasions, we have witnessed whitecaps from 20-30-knot winds, currents surpassing 4 knots and more, and lightning strikes from afar.

One of our dock neighbors witnessed first-hand the unpredictable conditions on the Sound in late summer, as an unexpected and sudden wind storm battered his vessel and ripped his headsail into tattered shreds. Sailing singlehanded, as he usually does, put him in a dangerous situation. But

The author is considering a switch to power, and a C-Dory 22 is on the list.

thankfully, his nearly half-century of sailing experience provided him with the knowledge and expertise to pilot his vessel safely back to the marina.

Laura and I have faced challenges far less imposing although, in the moment, insignificant obstacles often felt larger than they should have, which sadly was of little consolation. I recall our struggle through the churning cauldron off the shore at the north end of Point Defiance, with an engine problem that required a tow back into port, and wind chill factors that made us realize why so few boats ventured out during winter conditions like that.

At my age, I’ll never accrue the hours and nautical miles of my dockmate, nor those of Heat-Moon. But I think that in my brief time with Ariel, my opinion of the Sound is best characterized by Pilotis who confessed on the trip, “When this little ol’ excursion trip isn’t beating our brains out, it gives us one sweet and grand tour.”

Getting ready to pass through the Hylebos Bridge aboard Ariel.

Indeed, Laura and I did witness some “sweet and grand” times with Ariel, in the middle of one of the most beautiful geographical regions in the country. We shared the feelings of a sixth member of the crew, whom Heat-Moon referred to as "The Piper." The musician’s late start on Nikawa excluded some harrowing experiences, which left him feeling that “on the river, it’s like there’s no Mondays—everyday feels like Saturday,” although the author quickly corrected him: “Except for those Saturdays that feel like a week of Mondays.”

Heat-Moon spent nearly two years formally researching the conditions along his 5,000-mile route before setting out— and even an afternoon sail on local waters can benefit from proper planning. While Laura and I adhered to this practice, we often fell just short of complete and thorough planning: the conspicuous absence of an extra dock line and shore power cord when mooring at away stations; improperly-rigged reefing lines for the main; gear incorrectly stowed and thus flung across the cabin in the event of unforeseen heeling; tide and current charts lost or ignored. It felt like no matter what we planned for, the unexpected lay waiting, echoed by the author, who pointed out the “ineptitude of planning for anything less than everything.”

But maybe more important than planning is acute observation and response, with a focus on problem solving. The author revealed that “the trick for novice adventurers is to learn quickly enough before inexperience does a journey in; I optimistically reckoned that each day of survival, each league of fast education, increased our chances of completing the voyage.”

I must sheepishly admit that I didn’t learn as quickly as I would have liked to. On more than one occasion Laura and I returned to the dock frustrated with sail management, current navigation, or wind assessment. There were times when I did feel like abandoning sailing altogether. Some of my frustrations may have been ameliorated had I internalized Heat-Moon’s cautionary wisdom at the onset of our time with Ariel. In my

defense, however, some problems are unavoidable, and one’s knowledge is simply no match for the predicament, because, as the author laments, “on the water, the time between the easy life and disaster is but a moment.”

Indeed, even at the very end of our tenure with the sturdy sloop, with prospective buyers aboard Ariel for a sea trial, we found our confidence and patience tested one last time. After comfortably motoring out of the marina and preparing to cross the path of the Vashon Island ferry, Ariel’s usually reliable Yamaha engine sputtered and coughed before stalling out in a deafening silence, sending ripples of panic through us as the ferry blasted its horns in admonishment of our location. Only a favorable current prevented us from a front-page disaster, since the winds mustered nothing but a whisper, rendering our sails useless.

To add to our frustration, the small outboard performed perfectly not more than three days earlier, when we had taken Ariel for a spin to knock off a bit of sea grass and barnacles from her hull and rudder. Our eventual rescue came swiftly from Tow BoatUS, in the form of an amiable tow boat captain who expertly returned us to the marina.

Obstacles like this are usually accompanied by visceral frustrations on many levels, the greatest of which are revealed in epithets and tantrums. I was consoled by Heat-Moon’s awareness that “cursing is part of a Missouri River pilot’s proper and honored method of ascent; to go upriver without it is simply unhistorical, probably unhealthy, and certainly unlikely, so much so that even devoted southern Baptists and Missouri Synod Lutherans deem it less than a peccadillo.” Misery indeed loves company, and the author’s observation made me feel less worried about outbursts in the face of difficulties.

Still, in my time on the water, I have made headway into reducing irritations and challenges, perhaps affirmed by HeatMoon’s motto from the Quakers. Posted on a wooden plaque near the helm of his C-Dory is the philosophy, “Proceed as the Way Opens,” a quote which offered him daily reminders of patience accompanied by thoughtfulness and observation.

In retrospect, I realize that as Laura and I became more adept sailors, we benefitted as much from our choice not to take Ariel out in less than favorable conditions rather than forcing an outing because it was on the calendar; in effect, only proceeding ‘as the way opened.’

Adding to the marvel of sailing were the unexpected, though frequent sightings of marine wildlife in the Sound. While we rarely saw orcas, we were thrilled by pods of porpoises, curious seals, fish, bald eagles, and osprey.

Echoing my appreciation for life in the Sound was a passage in “River Horse” in which the author wistfully lists the names of 28 fishes found in the Hudson, lamenting how impoverished the river would be without “stonerollers, horny-head chubs, comely shiners, …jacks, wrasses, puffers, and flounders.”

Heat-Moon ran across a cadre of characters on land as well. His moorings at towns along the river lead him to off-the-grid farmers, knowledgeable pub owners, and savvy Native American guides. His encounters were not unlike my experiences with club members, marina hosts, and fellow boaters on the Sound— all of whom added to my education on the water.

Commencement Bay showing her beauty on a calm day.

It’s easy to claim that Heat-Moon’s passage along America’s rivers is a metaphor for our journey through life. Sometimes we comfortably drift downstream, observing the people, places, and sights along the way or in our wake. At other times we struggle against the current, meeting resistance in the unexpected as well as the anticipated. We mark significant mileposts along the way, and plan for the next phase of our travel.

And yet, the end of an odyssey, whether it be literal or figurative, often leaves an unexpected void. Selling Ariel certainly makes Laura and me ponder our next undertaking on the water, and reflect upon the exploits that we had aboard the sloop. She was the perfect vessel for our novice sailing needs. And now that we have caught wind across her canvas, and waves beneath her bow, we are planning for a new adventure, though one clearly different from our initial foray into the boating world.

Heat-Moon describes this growth at his journey’s end so poetically. “I thought how far I was from where and when this journey began, how I was so distant from that fellow passing for me twenty months ago, the one so eager to learn the secrets of river passage… Our physical components change every seven years, so our brains are continuously passing along memories to a stranger; who we have been is only a ghostly fellow traveler.”

While it has not been seven years since I first stepped aboard Ariel, I do believe that I am “distant from the fellow” who I was forty months ago. And though my time on the water was nowhere near as impactful as that for Heat-Moon, I still feel a sense of achievement in my endeavors as a new sailor, with an empty slip providing an opportunity to think about the past and future.

When I was a teacher, summer vacation offered me a time of reflection and the mental space to make adjustments to my teaching practice. Now being temporarily boatless, I feel a

similar sense of awareness. For Heat-Moon, the completion of his ocean-to-ocean voyage marked the end of a far greater life goal, leaving him to contemplate the future as well: “When our voyage was only memory, where would I wash up? Just where is the great delta of old river travelers? When the journey is done, quo vadis?”

Many of the members of our yacht club have confessed to “aging out” of sailing, acknowledging the physical and even mental demands that a sailboat requires. Laura and I are contemplating that reality for ourselves, despite our concerns about the noise, cost, and pace of a powerboat.

And once again the author offers his insight on that particular subject. He “never believed speed and ease are conducive to living fully, becoming aware, or deepening memory, a tripod of urges to stabilize and lend meaning to any life.”

Rather, Heat-Moon believed that challenging oneself in action and achievement alike, is “like rock climbing where the point is to go a difficult way, otherwise ascent is almost meaningless— the object isn’t just to get to the top but to get there in such a way you learn the nature of the mountain.”

I don’t know if I learned about the nature of Puget Sound, or sailing, or weather in my tenure with our Columbia 28. I can’t say that I took the road, or waterway, less traveled while sailing the old gal. Our journey wasn’t always difficult, and it wasn’t always about sailing. For me the adventure came in learning a little bit about the environment of the Pacific Northwest, and even more importantly, understanding my own nature as it faced the familiar along with the unknown, and the moments of uneasiness offset with times of peace, contemplation, and joy.

David Casey is a retired math teacher and semiprofessional woodworker and bass player. He plans on using his retirement to build a small sailboat and a kayak, and to explore the waters of southern Puget Sound.

A near run-in with a ferry was not how the author envisioned his last trip on Ariel.

48° NORTH BOAT TEST:

MGIG HARBOR NAVIGATOR 10

y phone blurped to life. It was my friend Ed sending a photo of an elegant navy blue powerboat. Ed and I have known each other going on 15 years and have cruised together on a number of occasions. In that time, he owned and really loved several sailboats. Ed was selling his Tartan and trying something new.

Six weeks later and a few days into a trip in the San Juan and Gulf islands together, Ed had heroically rescued our disabled sailboat with a tow, and then generously allowed me to stow away on his new boat so I could continue on our journey while the sailboat was in the yard. But that’s not what this story is about. This story is about the 10-foot tender cleverly tipped up athwartships on his transom.

As nice as Ed’s powerboat was, the little knockabout astern stole my heart. That row/sail dinghy was a Gig Harbor Boat Works Navigator 10, and it’s about to receive the award for the smallest boat I’ve ever reviewed for 48° North Spoiler: If I had other awards to give out, the Navigator 10 would probably get a few, because this little tender gets some seriously high marks from me for its fun, utility, and versatility.

DESIGN

The Gig Harbor Navigator 10 is not a new design, it’s been around for nearly three decades. But it was new to me, and discovering it was a delight. The Navigator

is full of complementary contradictions: it’s wonderfully simple and still featurepacked; it moves remarkably well without sacrificing stability and buoyancy; and its snappy appearance could bely the premium quality and durability that will make it a member of your fleet for years to come.

The Navigator is 10 feet in length, 54 inches on the beam, and the standard version displaces 90 pounds (an “Ultralite Composite” version is available that weighs only 75 pounds). Gig Harbor and Navigator owners say the boat is light enough to put atop a car. The sailing rig comes standard with a 45 square foot mainsail, and a “High Performance” option adds a removable bowsprit and a genoa increasing the sail area by 28 square feet. Further customizations abound depending on how a person would like to use or mount the boat. Ed’s Navigator had the High Performance sailing rig and the standard composite layup.

The first thing I noticed was this was a boat, not a RIB-like hog with initial stability for days—you’re not stepping on the gunwale while getting in and out, but that's typical of a dinghy of this style. Part of the Navigator’s handsome look is the gentle curve of its soft chines and, while its hull form provides stability, the design is made to offer more than just stability, and it may feel tippy to some at first. Gig Harbor makes another similarly sized tender with more initial

by Joe Cline

stability, but it comes with different compromises and wouldn’t row or sail as well as the Navigator. If you’re mindful of your weight placement, moving in, out, and around the boat becomes secondnature; and once seated and settled, I had zero doubts that the Navigator would stay upright, including in some chop. Buoyancy compartments fore and aft provide a bit of safety net should you swamp it, but I’m not sure if you could right it, bail it, and sail it away again.

These attributes are just thoughtful design decisions that differentiate this dinghy from some of the burlier ones I’ve used—as I always seem to write in these tests, all boat design is an exercise in compromise.

One useful note is that Ed’s Navigator was affixed to his powerboat with the Weaver Davits system (a stout but minimalist hinging davit option that you can purchase through Gig Harbor). When the dink is in the water for shipto-shore purposes, these davits lock one side of the Navigator to the mothership, allowing for less attentive entry, exit, loading and unloading, and setting up the sail rig. If that system works on your boat, I’d recommend it.

ROWING

I suspect most Navigator 10 owners row their boats more than they sail or motor. Any cruiser knows the value of a reliable ship-to-shore tender. Moreover, anyone who has rowed an inflatable knows the compromises and effort that come along with it. Though you can mount a motor to the Navigator 10, it shines as a rowboat. It wowed me with its rowing manners, enough to make an outboard seem inconvenient and unnecessary for most applications.

I rowed it alone and with Ed (together, we added about 400 pounds to the boat), and in each case it was very quick. It just seemed to hardly touch the water and made no wake at all. This is where you start to see the benefits to a dinghy with a more balanced design, one that doesn’t sell the farm for initial stability. It was a comfortable, efficient, fast rowing experience—what more could you ask for?

Gig Harbor promotes the importance of the full-length keels on their tenders and, indeed, I thought the Navigator tracked extremely well.

My only complaint when rowing was that the Navigator was almost too slippery in tight quarters, which I discovered when running a stern line to shore at Wallace Island’s Princess Cove. I had to make a conscious effort to slow it down near the barnacle-covered rocks—though I didn’t want to damage it, it was reassuring that it wasn’t at risk of popping and deflating if I miscalculated and had a little scrape.

As much as I enjoyed sailing the Navigator 10—and I did, and I’ll get to that shortly—to me, it is a brilliant boat to row. Full stop.

SAILING

A good tender’s utility notwithstanding, if it also provides the opportunity for a little extra fun… Yahtzee! Adding the sailing rig to the Navigator 10 does that in spades. It’s a critical element of Ed’s decision to select this dinghy as a sailor who now owns and cruises a powerboat. In his own words, “It scratches the itch.”

The sailing set-up on the Navigator 10 takes multiple forms. It can be sailed with main alone, which is quite easy to rig and still sails well and provides a lot of fun. But turning it into a sloop rig with the High Performance addition of the bowsprit and genoa make it a really wellrounded and impressive little sailboat. A simple daggerboard and flip-up rudder complete the kit.

The navigator’s two-piece mast is aluminum and it slips into the step hole that’s well forward, but not all the way to a cat-rigged position in the bow. The forward mast location allows for reasonably good performance under main alone. Spectra shrouds support the mast. The main is attached to the mast with plastic collars and at the clew with a slide-in slug. The rig and main make a genuinely nice shape, though it is definitely possible to overtrim.

The bowsprit joins the boat with through-bolts and wingnuts, nesting under the bow’s rub rail. The forestay is integral to the genoa, so adding and rigging it is quick. Sheets run outside the shrouds to fixed lead blocks and then through jam cleats. The bowsprit moves the headsail position forward enough to allow essential airflow through the slot between the two sails.

The days we sailed the Navigator, it was typical summer conditions in the islands—light wind, in other words. It was a soft landing to figure out the boat, though I quickly found it wasn’t enough to offset much of my 220 pounds in a 10foot dinghy. Ed preferred to sit in the sole of the Navigator, but I started out kneeling on a foam life jacket. That worked better for weight responsiveness but eventually got tiring, and I think sitting is most likely to be the best choice. That said, tacking with the behind-the-back tiller transfer took me back to dinghy racing days and provided a little extra thrill!

From our location at the head of the cove, we had to start off reaching

downwind, and then work back upwind. With both main alone and sloop setups, we had no trouble—meaning the boat’s upwind performance is more than adequate. Of course, in the light air, that’s also where it was most rewarding to “feel” the boat.

Even in light puffs the Navigator really had some notable get-up-andgo. Mimicking hiking, I could lean into the windward side during a puff and feel the boat scoot ahead. I’d imagine that even moderate breeze, say 8 knots, would move the Navigator into really engaging sailing dynamics, and that by 13 knots you’re into the realm of proper excitement.

Though in the age of tiny-boat cruises and adventure races I wouldn’t say camp cruising in the Navigator is out of the question, the sailing set-up is most likely to be used for a joyful little jaunt from your cruising boat in a picturesque Pacific Northwest harbor, or just dropping the boat into the water for a dedicated day sail. And in those applications, it really does perform beautifully.

The Gig Harbor Navigator 10 might be the best do-it-all tender available, and some will love it as a stand-alone boat to take out just for the fun of it. Among the dinghies I’ve used, it would be my choice. A rock-solid RIB with an outboard appeals in a different way, but the Navigator offers so much more and does it all very, very well.

Joe Cline has been the Managing Editor of 48° North since 2014.

All smiles for the author out sailing in Princess Cove.

The Navigator's elegantly simple layout.

The Weaver Davits system provided a great way store and stabilize the boat.

AN UNCONVENTIONAL PATH NORTH

PATIENCE PREVAILS ON THE OUTSIDE ROUTE TO ALASKA IN THE SPRING

by Andy Cross

It was late February when a plan for heading north to Alaska began to really take hold. Jill and I pored over charts and talked extensively about the trip north, which had been high on our list of destinations for several years. Having sailed around Vancouver Island the previous summer, we felt that the time was right to take our cruising adventures the next step further.

Southeast Alaska is a dream destination for many boaters throughout the Salish Sea and beyond, beckoning cruisers with stunning anchorages, bountiful wildlife, and glaciers that drop right down into the sea. We were no exception. Jill was also born and raised there, so exploring it by water on our own boat made getting there an even more meaningful goal.

When we began researching and listening to stories about the voyage north, the more we realized that the “getting there” part didn’t seem all that appealing for sailors. Most people, we’d come to find out, motored the vast majority of the 700plus miles. One conversation with a veteran sailor of the Inside Passage was particularly telling. “I’ve motored nearly the entire way to Ketchikan many times,” he quipped. “It’s beautiful, but you rarely sail even close to half of it.”

All that motoring didn’t sit right with me. Our goal was to sail and I convinced myself that it had to be possible. This is when we truly began formulating a plan that would have us sailing downwind to get there. Bucking the conventional route to Alaska that has boaters weaving up the east side of Vancouver Island—fighting northerly winds and its many rapids in May, June, or July—we thought that an outside route jumping up the west side of the island in more favorable sailing conditions could be feasible. Then, once we reached the top of the island, we could figure out the best route across Hecate Strait given the weather conditions.

To achieve this sailing-focused journey, the idea was to leave the Strait of Juan de Fuca in March to take advantage of spring southerly winds, and then ride those breezes north in several hops up the west coast before the winds calmed and the summer northerlies arrived. The entire key to this plan, though, was having the time and patience to allow for it to happen. We knew there was virtually no way to do it safely on a schedule, so we opened the calendar, gave it time, and started waiting for weather windows in early March.

GO TIME

After cruising the Gulf Islands for the better part of March, we worked our way down to Victoria and got Yahtzee set to go with provisions and last bits of gear for the trek west and then north. Looking at the weather, a window eventually opened up with easterly winds to potentially blow us out of the strait where we’d then be met by a southerly on the Pacific Ocean. In every weather model I looked at, that forecast held. So, on a rainy afternoon in late March, we left Cadboro Bay and made a hop through Race Rocks to anchor in Becher Bay.

The following morning, like clockwork, the easterly arrived just after sun up and we hoisted Yahtzee’s main, unfurled the genoa, and started our journey out of the strait. It was go time. We were sailing downwind to Alaska.

After rounding Beechy Head, Jill handed up my first cup of coffee of the day and followed with our sons Porter and Magnus. With the whole crew on deck, we sailed fast for nearly three hours in what turned out to be a surprise northeasterly, and put in some serious miles. When the wind started to abate and our progress slowed, Jill pushed the spinnaker up from down below and we got it set in the rain.

Our boatspeed was back up for another couple hours before the wind got flukey in direction and velocity. About 12 miles

shy of Port San Juan, on went the engine and we motorsailed against an increasing flood current. This was a lull that I thought would happen, and it felt like we were sailing on a treadmill, going nowhere.

The wind had been modest before, but I anticipated that it would soon fill in from the east in a big way. It did. Off of Port San Juan two things happened: the easterly kicked up to 20plus knots and the ocean swell came in against it. The swell was a long and lazy southwesterly at first, though that would change. The breeze had us rocketing out towards the vastness of the Pacific Ocean against the current and then, all of a sudden, the once strong wind completely died. On went the engine and we powered ahead into an increasing swell.

Forging on, the wind eventually veered to the southwest and the new breeze stacked the waves ever higher. It was about this time when visibility dropped and the rain started coming down in sheets. The wind, too, continued to build and I could no longer see land, though it was just a few miles off our starboard side. Jill stayed below with the boys while I kept Yahtzee safely offshore for the last few hours while approaching our turn into Barkley Sound. Finally, after a long day, we wove our way into Effingham Island in the Broken Group and dropped the anchor. We’d done it. Our first big test on this unconventional route to Alaska had been conquered. Now it was a waiting game.

PATIENCE PLEASE

From Barkley Sound, we knew that working our way up the west side of the island was going to be all about weather

windows. One of the unflinching truths of cruising is that the weather always wins. Always. Destinations don’t matter, nor does time. If our plan was going to work, we’d have to go when the weather was right and sit tight when it wasn’t.

After a glorious week enjoying spring in Barkley Sound, we made the prudent decision to hunker down in Ucluelet at a marina to wait as two big lows pummeled the coast with winds up to 50 knots. At times, it was unnerving, but when the last low swept by, we were itching and ready to go. Just as abruptly as we’d sailed into town, our time in Ukee came to an end.

When that second low cleared the area, we were set to ride northward on its coattails and planned an early morning getaway from the marina. The ocean still wasn’t too happy when we rounded Amphitrite Point to shape a course towards Hot Springs Cove; but with sails up and the morning sun bathing the sea and mountains in soft light, off we went.

With a consistent following breeze, the 45-mile hop northwest up the coast was a quick one. The lumpy seas helped us along, and even when the sun gave way to a steady rain, it didn’t matter—we were out sailing.

We found ourselves at the wave-and-current-swept entrance to Hot Springs Cove around three o’clock and, once inside and protected from the swell, we dropped the hook near the park dock. Not surprisingly for early April, we were the only cruising boat visiting the cove and we enjoyed a lay day spent soaking in the sultry hot springs and getting ready to continue north.

When we again pointed Yahtzee’s bow towards the ocean, the southerly breeze was still kicking and we made fairly good time

When the weather cleared, early spring in Barkley Sound was stunning.

The author was happy to have made it to Hot Springs Cove. Time for a soak!

scooting past Nootka Sound and dropped the hook 60-miles later at Rugged Point. Our intention was to stay a couple nights in this splendid spot, but the forecast had the final say and we had a date with the infamous Brooks Peninsula.

Having rounded the Brooks from the north a couple times, this would be our first go at it from the south, and the weather couldn’t have been better. A light rain fell as we motorsailed out of Kyuquot Sound and past the offshore reefs. Out on the ocean, a southwesterly swell was soon running and with it came a steady breeze. The green mountains of the Brooks Peninsula shot up into the clouds and, in front of us, Solander Island and its rocky, toothlike shape pierced straight from the depths of the sea.

Frothing white waves and the deep blue of the ocean met an equally blue and white sky, and we made our rounding

Since it was early spring, anchorages were remarkably empty everywhere the

With Solander Island astern, Quatsino Sound was the next stop.

"How

with Yahtzee’s sails spread out wide and full of breeze. Broad reaching and surfing fast at 7 to 9 knots, we reached the mouth of Quatsino Sound and then ghosted all the way to Drake Island.

The fast 65-mile hop brought us near the top of Vancouver Island, now we needed to prepare for the road ahead.

Making it into Quatsino Sound was a welcome stop. We were captivated by its secluded coves and beautiful scenery during our circumnavigation of Vancouver Island the previous summer, and it was a great place to stop for provisions, fuel, laundry, and showers. After spending Easter at Pamphlet Cove, we made our way through Quatsino Narrows to anchor near Marble River and then on to Coal Harbour.

Now, sitting at the northwestern end of Vancouver Island, we had a decision to make about routing to Alaska: Should we jump north to Haida Gwaii or head northeast to the central coast? After cruising the sound for nearly a week and weighing our options, our choice was narrowed to one option—Haida Gwaii. With full sails set, Yahtzee ripped off the miles northward and Vancouver Island was quickly put in our wake. The excitement of being on the ocean again after a week in Quatsino Sound was evident among our crew, and we were all looking forward to a night at sea. By morning, Haida Gwaii was on the bow and the wind remained fresh. We sailed fast towards Anthony Island on the southwest corner of the chain and were greeted by humpback whales just miles from our anchorage. Anthony Island (SGang Gwaay) is a UNESCO World Heritage site and to

The totems at SGang Gwaay are an everpresent reminder of the past.

Jill takes the helm as the Yahtzee crew rounds the Brooks Peninsula.

Weather Happens" was an appropriate subject while heading north.

Yahtzee crew went.

Magnus and Porter relax under the dodger while sailing across Hecate Strait.

say the area is breathtaking is a gross understatement. It is very remote and certainly felt that way while we navigated the local waters and walked the trails and beaches, especially in the early spring.

From there, we made two more brief stops in Haida Gwaii before jumping across Hecate Strait on a somewhat favorable weather window. While the islands bore a similar resemblance to Vancouver Island, we could quickly tell it was a destination all its own. The anchorages seemed far more secluded, and gave the impression that not very many people have the opportunity to actually experience it. Walking the shorelines and venturing into the adjacent forests made us feel like we were in a sacred place—indeed, we were.

Alas, we needed to continue on. Our big push to the northeast across Hecate Strait started early in the morning with a forecast that flip-flopped on wind direction and strength; it was really anyone’s guess as to what we’d get. The morning began with a following breeze that turned into a solid westerly, putting us on a beam reach sailing northward at a good clip. Thinking the wind might shift north, we stayed close to the islands. Then, when it did slowly veer, we cracked off to the northeast and reached for a while before making it to Stephens Island motorsailing in a dying wind.

THE FINISH LINE

From there, we were only separated from Alaska by another big day-long jaunt—this time from the northeast coast of British Columbia up to Ketchikan. On a cool late-April morning, I woke

up early, looked out the port in our cabin and saw a faint sunrise filtering in from the east over Stephens Island. I switched on the VHF radio at the nav station, adjusted the volume, and tuned to the local weather out of Prince Rupert. “Wind: South at 10 to 15 knots. Sunshine.”

“Perfect.” I thought with a smile, we’d done it. This was the weather I had hoped for, and now we’d get our dream run into Alaska under spinnaker. It was an awesome feeling.

All along, Jill and I said that if it seemed we weren’t handling all the miles and long days well as a family then we’d slow it down. But we’d sailed in a downwind groove most of the time, which meant that our start and stop method of waiting for weather had been a success. In the end, we covered over 700-miles from Victoria to Ketchikan in a month, and had sailed upwind or motored for only 90 of those miles. It was an incredible feeling of accomplishment and validation.

Six hours after leaving Stephens Island, with our big blue spinnaker flying and our family of four dancing underneath it, we sailed across the border into “The Last Frontier.” The voyage north wasn’t always easy, but taking this unconventional route certainly felt like a triumph that we could all savor together. Now, it was time to settle in and enjoy cruising in Alaska.

Andy Cross is the editor of 48° North. After years cruising the Pacific Northwest and Alaska with his family aboard their Grand Soleil 39, Yahtzee, they sailed south and are currently in the Caribbean Sea. You can follow their adventures at SailingYahtzee.com

Porter and Jill stand watch during the overnight hop from Vancouver Island to Haida Gwaii.

FIRST FORAY INTO CRUISING

by Gerry Austin

Having raced sailboats on Puget Sound for the past 15 years, I have experienced the beauty of our area year-round and visited many ports before and after races. Yet, the concept of cruising was still very unknown to me. Trips to attend races always had a goal and a schedule. The idea of just setting out with destination and plans largely unknown felt uncomfortable.

When my family suggested last spring that we go cruising together in the San Juan Islands, I was both intrigued and overwhelmed at the prospect of taking my wife and two teenagers sailing for a week on a 27-foot sailboat. But it was also exciting, and this seemed like my chance to dispel the mystery and discomfort that surrounded cruising for me.

About three years ago, I bought our 1977 Catalina 27, Emerald Lady. We’ve raced her hard, enjoying her generous PHRF handicap; and have had some great adventures. Originally designed to be a weekend family racer-cruiser, the Catalina 27 is capable of sleeping five, which we’d done at Blake Island for a single night on a last-minute weekend trip. But let me assure you, this is not a big boat! Besides the sleeping arrangements, I was awash in questions. What was I going to bring for meals? Would my head’s holding tank overflow? How much freshwater should we carry, and where do we store it? How do I set an anchor confidently enough to sleep through the night? And would this be the ultimate test of our family in such close quarters?

Thankfully, in the sailing and cruising community, there are plenty of folks who are there to help. My first question to the cruisers at the Port Orchard Yacht

After a week exploring the islands on a 27-footer, these four are cruisers now.

Club was, “Where should I go?” They all told me the same thing, “The best plan is to not have a plan, make it up as you go. Watch the weather and just do whatever you want that day.”

Ok, sure, sounds good in theory, but that’s just not how I’ve ever planned trips before. I began looking at the Waggoner Cruising Guide and learning about this mythical area that I’d never really explored even though it’s only miles from where I grew up in Bellingham. Unknown adventure, right in our own backyard. Experienced folks will tell you that never has to end in this part of the world!

Over the next few months, I spent the time between the races on our schedule cleaning and going through the boat, ensuring that I knew what might break, and trying to maximize space wherever I could find it. We weren’t backpacking, I reminded myself, so we didn’t have to go truly minimalist, but we should be smart about bringing only what we needed.

Knowing my kids would need their electronics, I figured out where to put two small solar panels to keep our phones and battery charged. I also bought some standup paddleboards for them to use for fun and to get to shore. My wife and I planned to rely on the dinghy that came with the boat, though I hadn’t actually ever used it. Hopefully it held air.

Soon the spring racing season was winding down, and my garage was staged with gear to load out. With our final West

Sound Sailing Association race on June 22, we set our departure goal two days later on June 24. That would give me and my son, Reed, a day to load the boat for an early departure the following day. The plan was for him and I to spend two days getting the boat to Anacortes where my wife and daughter would meet us.

Excited to be off on our adventure, we were underway at about 8 a.m., motoring north, keeping an eye out for anything that looked like wind. We are sailors after all, and the noise of the outboard gets pretty annoying after an hour or so.

We passed Kingston around noon, and noticed a familiar boat sailing near us in the glassy water. Venturing closer, we recognized it as the J/105 Vamoose There wasn’t much wind, so we figured either they were just out having fun, or there was an issue. Hailing on the VHF, we learned they were having an engine cooling issue, and the skipper was sailing while rebuilding his water pump. They were headed north too, so we ensured they had our cell numbers, and encouraged them to give us a call if they needed any assistance.

We finally found wind around Point No Point, and were able to shut down the engine and sail for a while. My son took the tiller, and set our course to the south end of Marrowstone Island. This was more like it—sailing, soaking up the sun, and listening to music.

Soon, we wound up in the wind

The trip didn't start out with a lot of wind for sailing, but by the end of the week even the spinnaker got a good workout.

shadow of Marrowstone and fired up the outboard once again to get through the Port Townsend Canal. On the other side though, we met a nice northerly which allowed us to sail yet again, this time all the way up to our destination of Port Townsend as the evening set in. Plenty of daysailers were still out enjoying the pleasant weather as we doused our sails and headed into Boat Haven for the night. Once docked and paid, we realized we could have used the reciprocal slip in the commercial basin; but decided not to move, instead sending directions to that slip to our friends on Vamoose, who likely needed it more than we did given its proximity to West Marine. AIS showed that they were still sailing, so we assumed the problem had not gotten resolved and sent them a text with directions to the slip. They texted back with a hearty thank you, as their engine was still overheating, so they decided to sail up to Port Townsend hoping to arrive around dark. Knowing where to go once there would allow them to use their limited engine time wisely. Helping each other out is what boaters do!

Since we arrived about an hour after the marina office had closed, we couldn’t find the bathroom door code anywhere. After a long day we were eager for a refreshing shower, so I contacted a sailor friend who lives in Port Townsend on the off chance he knew it. He didn’t, but knew someone who would, and got back

The interior of the Catalina 27 didn't offer luxurious accommodations for four, and organization was paramount.

The museum and grounds at the Turn Point

to me a few minutes later. More boaters helping boaters! With one of our first cruising puzzles solved, we settled in for a relaxing night.

The next morning, I got up and wandered over to our friends on Vamoose, who had gotten in right after sunset. The engine issue was still problematic, but they knew they were in a good spot for troubleshooting, so I wished them well and headed back to wake up my son to get underway. Later that morning they blew out the inlet line, and found that it had been blocked—a 30 second fix that just took many hours to find. Isn’t that how it goes so much of the time? They were soon back on their way to Canada. We set out at about 9 a.m. with a fresh

northerly, hoping to reach Whidbey on the ebb tide before the morning wind died down. We made great time and got close to the Naval Air Station before the breeze ran out against the south running current.

With a little westerly breeze building a bit later, we set the spinnaker, and watched planes flying missions from Whidbey while we took the eastern route around Burrows Island to avoid the current.

Eventually, we fired up the engine again and made our way to Cape Sante Marina for the night. As we were approaching, we saw lots of sailboats we recognized coming into the harbor, and quickly concluded that we had somehow planned

this trip to coincide with Anacortes Race Week. What a great surprise to run into racing friends while out cruising.

We tied up and, while I was organizing the boat for the arrival of my wife and daughter the following day, my son ventured off. He found the trails north of the marina and hiked to the top of the bluff. We were starting to appreciate how the pace of cruising allows for that kind of exploration.

The rest of the family arrived midway through the next morning, and we were underway soon after. We had a strong southerly on the ebb tide and made quick time out of Anacortes, before sailing across a lumpy Rosario Strait. My wife, Cammy, looked a bit concerned with a few waves crashing over the bow, but I assured her this would be short lived as we headed towards Thatcher Pass, the gap between Decatur and Blakely islands. I also remarked that this was just a bit of good racing weather!

As expected, once inside the islands, we had flat seas with light breeze. We decided to head to Friday Harbor first; given the weather, we felt that being in a marina would be a more comfortable night than on anchor. We enjoyed our first passage through the San Juans on our own boat, and found a slip without trouble. After exploring town and grabbing dinner, Cammy and I headed up to the Friday Harbor Yacht Club to say hello and grab a drink. We were disappointed to learn that we were there on a dinner night, and had missed our chance to have dinner at the club; but the hospitality and views were far from disappointing as the sun set.

The following morning, seeing

Stuart Island is full of character, and the trading post is a great example.

Lighthouse were remarkably beautiful.

the storm still lingering, we grabbed breakfast in town, and checked out the very cool whale museum before setting out at about noon. With favorable currents and a moderate breeze on our beam, we set sail and headed north. I wasn’t really sure where we’d end up, but embraced the “make no plans” approach. Steady winds graced us as we took a port tack all the way up the passage to Spieden Island, where the winds finally died. We motored to Stuart Island’s Prevost Harbor and found a mooring ball close to the dock. After securing the mooring, my son’s face quickly grew concerned when he realized that he had no cell signal anymore. I shrugged and suggested he try to find a high spot on shore. The rest of the family wanted to go ashore anyway, so we inflated the dinghy and paddleboards for our inaugural shipto-shore mission as cruisers.

Stuart Island is a remarkably beautiful spot. As Cammy and I walked around, my son set off in search of high ground so he could text with his girlfriend and let her know of his imminent demise due to being off-grid. After an hour of exploring the beach, we headed back to the boat to think about dinner. My daughter paddled around the harbor and enjoyed looking into the pristine waters. After a few hours, Cammy asked, “At what point do we get concerned that Reed isn’t back?” I chuckled, “Dark.”

Not to worry, he soon appeared paddling back to the boat, about three hours after he left. He’d managed to hike out to the Turn Point lighthouse searching for a cell signal, saw orcas

and talked to his friends until his phone battery was nearly dead. He said, “This island is pretty cool.” That’s extremely high praise from a teenager! I mentioned that my plan was to go to the lighthouse the next day, so he’d get to see it all again. We made a hearty dinner of tacos and enjoyed a quiet night on the mooring ball. This cruising stuff was turning out to be pretty great.

The next day, we took the inflatables over to the dock (what do you know, the dinghy held air!) and walked up to the lighthouse, with a stop at the trading post where we found some cool T-shirts and cards.The pit toilet at Turn Point lighthouse had a sign warning of unsanitary conditions but, to our surprise, it was the most plush pit toilet we’d ever seen. The lighthouse had a great museum and the caretakers clearly take immense pride in this remote location.

That afternoon, we spent some time on the park dock and had fun meeting and comparing notes with folks from other areas of Puget Sound. We decided that the following day we should hit Deer Harbor for lunch and to empty our holding tank and get ice, then head over to Jones Island.

Setting out the next day, we made a quick motor to Deer Harbor and were glad to accomplish our goals there. We tried to dispose of a small bag of garbage, but decided the $10 fee was too much, so I stashed it in the back of our boat instead.

The weather was falling apart as the afternoon set in, so we decided to shoot for the north shore of Jones for a sheltered night. Jones Island was busy,

but I managed to find a good spot to set the anchor. I was thankful for the advice others had given me about what to look for, how to test your hold, and how much scope to set based on the conditions. After an hour of wondering if we were well set, I finally accepted I wasn’t going anywhere and ventured to shore. Cammy and Reed embarked on a hike encircling the island, while I walked over to the other side to get a look and then went back to the boat to organize a few things. One thing about having four people on a 27-foot boat is that everything always needed to get put away, lest there be no room for anyone. And with drizzle setting in, I knew that we’d need what interior space we had. I also put a tarp over the boom, and kicked back listening to music and appreciating my surroundings while my family explored. Though the wind picked up overnight, we were well protected and all slept well. I always figured sleeping on an anchor would be a bit rougher than it actually was.

Cammy and I were up early the next morning and, with our plan to be in Anacortes by late afternoon, we decided to pull anchor while the kids were still asleep. We motored east while sipping fresh coffee. Hunger set in after meandering through the Wasp Islands enjoying the wildlife, so we found a mooring ball at Blind Island to wake up the kids and have breakfast. We contemplated going ashore, but Blind Island seemed so small that we decided to let it go. Instead, we deflated our inflatables and got ready to begin the voyage home.

Despite the warning sign suggesting questionable sanitation, Turn Point's pit toilet was decidedly plush.

We found moderate south winds in Rosario Strait, set sail, and decided to take the north route back to Anacortes going north of Cypress and Guemes. We were able to sail the whole way back using the engine just to get into the marina—our longest sail of the whole trip thus far. The reciprocal slip was open, so we made a quick stop to drop off some gear and the ladies, filled up at the fuel dock, and Reed and I decided to use the evening light to begin the trip home via LaConner. After a two-hour motor through the Swinomish Slough, with most powerboats respectfully slowing down to minimize their wake next to us, we arrived at the reciprocal dock between two large powerboats for the night.

We found a great dinner and, as we meandered through town, our only regret was that many of the businesses we would have liked to see were closed for the night. I told Reed I’d be up early the next day and planned to shove off while he was still asleep. Back in reliable cell phone range, he spent the evening catching up with friends on a bench in the park.

The early light peeked through my hatch as the sun rose, and I made quick time getting us off the dock and underway. I was a bit concerned at the fact that I was transiting the Swinomish Channel and Skagit Bay on a minus tide. Folks had told me it was dredged, and our

With the boom tent up, the drizzle coming on, and the music playing, the author enjoyed his surroundings in Jones Island's north anchorage.

boat only draws 4 feet, but it still felt a bit harrowing as I looked out across the mud flats in the morning sun. I set the depth alarm at 5 feet, and hoped for the best. As many others had reported, I found the area of the channel that was sluffing near the end, but managed to keep us out of the mud.

I continued south and, with Oak Harbor in sight, found a moderate westerly wind coming in off the Strait of Juan de Fuca, just like the weather models predicted. The waves slamming the bow wound up being enough to rouse my son from his slumber, which was handy because I was ready to sail anyway. Passing the north end of Camano Island, we set sail, and headed south on a starboard tack. After an hour, the wind shifted behind us, so we were able to set our spinnaker and enjoy the run south while rocking out to music. We finally reached the end of the wind around Edmonds and fired up the outboard again. We figured that was the end of our sailing, but fortunately we found wind one more time at Jefferson Head, and were able to sail to Agate Pass.

At Agate Pass, we noticed a boat full of people going around in circles intermittently. As we approached, we saw the captain give a two armed wave. We immediately dropped our sails and fired up the engine to assist. Once alongside them, we learned that they had lost steering, and vessel assist was

on the way, but that it’d been an hour and he was doing what he could to keep it off the shore. We pulled them a bit farther away from the shore, and offered to take some of the folks back to their house near Manzanita since we were headed that way. After a brief discussion and a call back to vessel assist for an ETA, they appreciatively declined as vessel assist would be there shortly. Since we had offered assistance to a fellow boat on our first day, it seemed like we'd come full circle to be in that position again on our final day. Just doing what boaters do! Ensuring everyone was ok, we got underway again, and pulled into our homeport at the Port Orchard Yacht Club right as the evening colors began to show and the shipyard played taps.

There it was—eight days underway, a family of four with two teenagers, 27 feet of our 47-year-old Emerald Lady. We successfully took her cruising and survived to tell about it.

We learned a lot about cruising, and about the different kinds of fun and rewards it offers than the sailing I’d been doing for the past 15 years. We’re already planning to return, and look forward to spending lots more time cruising the Salish Sea with no plan.

Gerry Austin and his family are West Sound racers and budding cruisers aboard their Catalina 27, Emerald Lady

The combination of inflatable ship-to-shore options worked great for this family of four with two teenagers.

by Genevieve Iverson

NEW PROXIMITY REGULATIONS AROUND KILLER WHALES MAY AFFECT PUGET SOUND RACING RULES

Members of numerous local racing organizations recently joined a virtual discussion with Captain Alan Myers and policy leader Julie Watson from the Washington State Department of Fish and Wildlife (WDFW) to ask questions about how a new Washington State law regarding endangered killer whales will affect sailboats racing on Puget Sound, and how race rules can help racers comply with the regulations.

The State of Washington Senate Bill 5371 is now in effect, and the mandatory measures for boaters around Southern Resident killer whales (SRKW) include:

• Boaters must stay 1,000 yards (approximately 0.5 mile) in all directions from SRKWs.

• Boaters must stay below 7 knots of speed within the 1,000 yards.

• Boaters must disengage engine(s) if SRKWs appear within 400 yards

This meeting provided an opportunity for race organizers to standardize common language for use in their Notice of Race (NOR) and Sailing Instructions (SI) across all races. The new language was written by Dick Rose, Jared Hickman, Charley Rathkopf, and Schelleen Rathkopf, and notes that citations may be issued by WDFW when boaters are found out of compliance and, separately, that if sailors do not abide by the NOR and SI rules they could be protested or disqualified from the race.

Jon Anderson, Fleet Captain at CYC Seattle, who started this discussion with local race officers and WDFW, had this to say about the new regulations:

“The CYC of Seattle is committed to ensuring all racers are set up for success

while sharing the race course with these animals. Our PRO team has a plan to be more intentional about checking whale tracking apps and notifying racers before and during racing of potential whale conflicts. Additionally, during shorter buoy races, we will use best judgment and call off any racing which may impede the 1,000 yard zone. We are encouraged that many of the yacht clubs and race officials in our area are already using the new NOR language and look forward to continuing to partner across clubs and with the WDFW on these important regulations.”

The following questions asked of the WDFW team helped clarify the understanding for racers and organizers.

Q: How does the law pertain to racing/ sailing vessels?

A: All vessels whether motorized or not are instructed to stay 1,000 yards away from SRKWs in all directions and maintain a speed of under 7 knots if they find themselves within that proximity zone. If a whale suddenly appears within 400 yards, the vessel must disengage their motor and wait until they can safely return to the 1,000 yard distance. If a whale appears near racers under sail power alone, it is advised to also decrease speed and wait until whales are out of that 400 yard proximity before moving away from the whales at a speed of under 7 knots, if it is safe to do so.

“The course of action is to get back into compliance safely and slowly, adhering to that 7 knot law,” said Captain Alan Myers. “The main goal is to stay out of the 1,000yard protection zone, and set yourself up to do so accordingly.”

Note: Transient killer whales (Bigg’s) and other species of whales, porpoises, and dolphins are not included in the new 1,000 yard proximity update.

Q: If I am sailing and I see whales ahead that could come within 1,000 yards, what should I do?

A: The best course of action is to alter your course to avoid coming within the 1,000-yard protection zone. If they do come within 1,000 yards, maintain the law of 7 knots or less of speed. If you are unsure whether the whales are SRKWs or transients, it is safest to follow all minimum guidelines and abide by the 1,000-yard state law. It is important to consider the safety of yourself and your crew while making directional and speed changes, and to make an educated decision based on your location.

A variety of digital resources may be utilized by sailors and organizers before and during races, but here are a couple of on-the-water tips to keep in mind:

• A “whale warning” flag can be flown by boaters to alert other vessels of nearby whales. This is a white flag with a black whale tail over a yellow and red circle.

• Commercial whale watching boats can often be a good indicator of killer whale presence. If they appear closer to the whales—within 200-300 yards—those are most likely other species of whales, and not endangered local residents.

For more information on the new mandatory measures, as well as information on Canadian laws and other species regulations, visit BeWhaleWise.org.

THE OTHER WAY SHAW ISLAND WINTER CLASSIC 2025

The 2025 edition of the Shaw Island Winter Classic was on par with the prior runnings in almost every way, other than maybe the most important one: the direction. During Summer Shaw, you get to choose your rounding direction and you get the joy and pain of guessing whether you went the right way, but at Winter Shaw the race committee decides for you. In June, when you sail the Round Orcas Race, the direction is decided by democratic vote of the racers.

The Shaw Island Winter Classic has been clockwise for at least 20 years,

right up until this year. To be accurate, right until the evening before the race. It’s true that we had a very frigid week before the event, and it’s true that the wind forecast was light and the possibility of current was significant, but we all found out that it was possible to go the other way in the winter.

Speaking of frigid, all the schools in the North Sound spent the week with late starts and snow days, and the forecast for race day was far from balmy. One of my trusty race crew suggested doing the race in survival suits. I replied that I was planning on

by Stephanie Campbell

wearing my sub-zero down jacket and that I would have my Mr. Buddy Heater with three cans of propane for the adventure. She may have replied that sub-zero down and survival suits are pretty much the same, but I humbly beg to differ.

And speaking of crew, in addition to my friend Mark Harang and my son Dylan (who often sail Wild Rumpus with me), I was also joined by the women I’ll be sailing with for the upcoming WA360 Race on Team Salish Seasters. It’ll be a challenge that’s not in my racing wheelhouse, but it will also be a great adventure! We have big plans for getting our biking legs in shape and testing the waters of the South Sound, but our first test was a February sail through the islands.

On race day morning, I fired up coffee and three thermoses, and loaded up the car to find out that it was at least 10 degrees warmer than predicted. Things were already better than expected. After eventually getting the outboard to start on a cold morning, we motored to the Orcas Island ferry landing. The sun was shining, the breeze was light but not nothing, and the current was not enough to visually notice from the dock.

The starting line is the entire stretch of Cayou Channel (formerly Harney Channel) which can be a bit hard to judge, and this time from the opposite direction. As happens, we thought we were dangerously close to the line, and some boats were well ahead of us, and

The author focused at the helm, ghosting through a light patch.

The forecast for race day was far from balmy, but the cold didn't chill the good times on Wild Rumpus.

the race committee from the peanut gallery on the Orcas Island shoreline called out on the radio “ALL WELL CLEAR” at the start. Well, ok then! Off we went.

Fairly soon we went to kites, and it was light but some puffs rolled through and made a few moments exciting. Most of the lead boats had asymmetrical spinnakers that were barely brushing the water in front of them, meaning they occasionally had surprising moments of land and rocks and other boats in their immediate future. On my Santa Cruz 27 Wild Rumpus, we caught some great surprised expressions right behind some big kites, particularly a smiling face of Chris Wolfe on Ripple just off our transom and Bob Brunius calling out, “Don’t hit Steph!” from behind the kite of the J/70 A-ha! With no faces to be seen!

For the most part, we made it through Wasp Pass unscathed, and there weren’t a lot of passing lanes in San Juan Channel. Getting too close to Shaw Island proved to be slow, and we weren’t sure if we were going to finish at the short course off Flat Point on Lopez Island. Again, the short and full course finishes were the

width of the respective channels. It made a difference if you were planning to finish there, or if you were going to connect the dots to round the last corner to the finish. As it turned out, we did the whole course. And we even did it in a reasonable time, with the sun shining.

Sure, it snowed on us shortly after the start, but mostly it was just a beautiful day on the water with a delicious awards dinner at the Orcas Hotel and a fun slumber party on the island afterward. Maybe the frigid weather scared away

some boats this year, but if there’s a lesson to be learned—the weekend was far better than the forecasters predicted and things are almost always better than your worst fears. You just had to get out there and give it a go.

This year the podium places went to our Wild Rumpus crew; Justin and Christina Wolfe sailing doublehanded on their new whip, the Riptide 35 Ripple; and Rhys Balmer also sailing shorthanded with his Soverel 33 Elsewhere. Results can be found at oiyc.org

The author (right) and some of her crew for this race. These four will make up Team Salish Seasters in the upcoming WA360 Race.

TOLIVA SHOAL RACE 2025

A LIGHT AIR AFFAIR IN THE SOUTH SOUND

Photos by Sean Trew.

by Peter Stewart

Boats and sailors made their way from their home ports to Olympia for the annual Toliva Shoal Race on February 15, 2025. The southernmost of the Southern Sound Series is a February classic and marks the third of the four monthly winter races in this great series. The unique course sends sailors north from Olympia out of Budd Inlet, and then zig-zagging on an out-and-back route east to the Toliva Shoal buoy, flanking Anderson Island to the south on the way out and north on the way back.

Unlike many local races, with a different hosting club and starting point each month, the deliveries to and from Southern Sound Series races are a part of the experience for participants. With most boats making sometimes-long delivery to Olympia on Friday, there was a chance for racers to chat it up on the dock and in the club on race eve. When Friday falls on the 14th, as it did this year, the sailors are amongst the lovers on Valentine’s Day—better go to dinner early or have reservations for the good restaurants!

Our delivery crew on the Cal 33, Cherokee, made it to Olympia by 3:30 p.m., and enjoyed the scenery of the South Sound in better weather than we expected, staying dry and even basking in some February sunshine. We appreciated the great dinner put on by Olympia Yacht Club, who also hosted a breakfast the following morning.

Racing in the South Sound in February is not easy. The Toliva Shoal course has multiple extreme changes in direction; add

Currents, light wind, trees in the water—challenges took many forms at this year's Toliva Shoal Race.

strong currents and it will challenge anyone. Some love it, and some do not. As is so often the case in sailboat racing, taking on something tough leads to reward, if you’re up for the challenge.

The 2025 edition of the race was sailed as we exited a weeklong cold spell. Clear sub-freezing sunny days gave way to some snow leading into the weekend, which had some prospective racers holding out on registering. Public service announcement: Please register ahead of time, hosting clubs and their volunteers are planning and providing and it’s really helpful to know who and how many hope to attend.

The wind forecast called for a light southerly, becoming east-southeast in the afternoon, followed by a northerly late in

the day. Tides were ebbing until 1 p.m., which would help us progress in the right direction in the light wind. But could we get to Toliva in time for the flood?

Out at the starting area, the ebb was in its early stages and we had wind from the southeast between 3 and 6 knots. Approaching the line from the west with the genoa up, we hoisted the S2 spinnaker. Some of our Class 7 friends and competitors, Moore 24 Bruzer and Ranger 33 Aurora, had started on the opposite east end of the line, which helped them extend on us early in the race.

As we sailed toward the top of Budd Inlet and our first turn at Dofflemyer Point, the shifty wind went as high as 8 knots. Not bad! Unfortunately, those were the best conditions we saw all day. After the turn at Dofflemyer, heading into Dana Pass, the wind lightened while the favorable current increased to 2.5 knots. With this change, we were still moving slowly in the right direction, but we all doused spinnakers and went back to headsails, looking for the best currents.

We had a lengthy match race with J/160 Jam, and crossed tacks a number of times with Flying Tiger 10m Tigger and J/88 Sea Stories. This was your typical light-air flavor of whiteknuckle racing. And when boats with such different ratings are going the same speed, you know the conditions have gone a little haywire.

Ultimately, the hope of improving winds evaporated, and the race committee broadcast a shortened course at Johnson Point near the top of Dana Pass. This is just the second of twelve marks of the course, and only about 7 miles into what would

have been a 38-mile full course. Clearly, the conditions didn’t cooperate, and shortening course was a wise decision, so a nod to the committee.

As mentioned previously, the deliveries are an important component of the Southern Sound Series experience. Accordingly, I had pre-arranged to have some crew hitch a ride back to Olympia on Aurora in the event of a shortened course, so that I didn’t have to backtrack (if the race didn’t take us there) before starting my trip home. Thank you, Derek!

So, while this wasn’t the Toliva Shoal Race that we’d all hoped for, it was still a race and a challenging one. A few boats pulled the plug early, but most were able to finish at the shortened course endpoint. In our class of PHRF 7, Bruzer took the win, giving them a trio of bullets in the series thus far. Around the fleet, class honors went to Farr 395 Zulu Tango, Aerodyne 38 Kahuna, Express 37 Rock Paper Scissors, Antrim 27 Redline, J/80 Jolly Green, and F32 Pax the Space Spider. Cruising and Commodores class honors went to Emma Lee, Yonder Star, White Squall, and Jolly Rumbalow.

The conclusion of the series takes place next month with a new race and course (still called the Islands Race) hosted by Corinthian Yacht Club of Tacoma, which is nestled into a packed calendar of March distance races that also includes CYC Seattle’s Center Sound Series. Seems like spring is here. And we’ll see you out there!

Results can be found www.ssssclub.com.

Photos by Sean Trew.

The author's Cal 33 Cherokee works to keep boat speed up and find favorable current in the light breeze.

CLASSIFIEDS

BOATS FOR SALE

1978 ISLANDER 36

Classic for sale by original owners. Rare mahogany interior, with new cushion in the v-berth. Repowered in 2010 with a Yanmar 30. Currently on land at Pacific Marine, in Anacortes. More info available » Contact John Lane • Text: (207) 276-2403

• j3lane@aol.com • $24,500

1997 NORSEA 27

Aft cabin. Very good looking boat, good condition, professionally finished, Yanmar 2 cylinder 18hp, about 380 hours. Built with offshore travel in mind. Met the love of my life who didn’t share my vision. Many extras, including 7’7” achilles inflatable, Winslow 4 person life (needs recertification) Moniter windvane, much more.

» Contact Jim Herman • (253) 380-1413

• boatbutcher@hotmail.com • $59,000

$110,000

1983 PASSPORT 40

This is a world capable yacht, ready to take you cruising. Beautiful yacht in really good condition. She is cutter rigged with oversized rigging and extra cockpit winches. Major equipment has been replaced or renewed. She is cruise equipped. Location is Orcas Island, WA. » Contact Tom Owens • (360) 632-8896 • svlandsend@yahoo.com • $110,000 (Private Sale)

$9,000

15’ BOLGER GLOUCESTER GULL DORY

The Artful Sailor is selling the famed 15’ Bolger Gloucester Gull, TASWENS, veteran of three, round trip 70/48 races, a circumnavigation of Kitsap Peninsula and the Salish 100. Traditionally finished, complete with sails, spars, oars, cruising gear, cover and dolly. Ready to row. Visit TASWENS, by appointment at The Artful Sailor shop in Port Townsend at Point Hudson. Visit: theartfulsailor.com » Contact The Artful Sailor

• (360) 344-8120 • theartfulsailor@gmail.com

• $9,000

$18,000

FOR SALE 1994 CATALINA 270

Perkins 18 HP Diesel, Pedestal Steering, 100 & 130 Jibs and main sail, dodger, wheel and sail covers, and a wing keel. » Contact Mark • (206) 784-4474 • mjquam2@q.com • $18,000

$99,700

2006 CATALINA 36 MKII

Iverson dodger/bimini, M35 35hp Universal Diesel, 6AGM batteries, Garmin radar/chart plotter, electric head, max prop, SCS modem/ICOM802, single side band, ICOM digital tune, solar panels, Balmer alternator/ Duo charger, AIS Transceiver, Diesel furnace, SIG Marine propane furnace, two burner stove/oven, hot/cold water, microwave, Refrig/freezer, Dominic freezer. » Contact Mark Mondloch • (253) 732-0953 • mondloch1@aol.com • $99,700

$72,900

CUSTOM 43’ EDSON SCHOCK KETCH (1973)

Professionally built of mahogany planking over oak frames, Debonair has been lovingly maintained. Extensive upgrades include new electrical and 75hp Yanmar. Consistently turning heads, Debonair is a seaworthy passage-maker, recently completing a 16,000nm tour of the South and North Pacific. From rig to sails, systems to safety, Debonair is voyage-ready. Details: porttownsendboatco.com or www.yachtworld.com/yacht/1973-custom-edsonschock-43'-ketch-8441971/ » Contact Vance Rucker • ketchdebonair@gmail.com • $72,900

$30,000

22" CLASSIC DAYSAILER

Latitude 46 Tofinou 7 built in 1994. 22' classic daysailer, with inboard diesel and varnished wood detailing, perfect for solo sailing or groups of 4. Furling jib, spinnaker, lazy jacks, tiller lock, retractable keel, with halyards and sheets accessible from the cockpit.

» Contact Bruce Bjerke • brucetbjerke@comcast.net

• $30,000

$79,900

1977 ALAJUELA 38 MK 1

Upgrades (2019 – 2022) include engine (Beta 43), Navionics Suite, Solar, standing / running rigging, roller furling genoa, main and staysail. Monitor self steering, new max prop 4 blade, new electrical switchboard and cabling throughout. Completed 12 month circumnavigation 2022-2023. Ready for more. Complete list of upgrades and recent surveys available. » Contact Douglas Wertz • (509) 438-1151 • dougwertz55@gmail.com • $79,900

2003 JEANNEAU SUN ODYSSEY 40

Amazing performance cruiser for Salish Sea or offshore. Blue water vet: Mexico, Hawaii and Alaska. Excellent condition with all the gear: near new Yanmar 4JH57 (160 hrs) direct drive; aux fuel tank; MAX prop; watermaker; ESPAR hydronic heat; RADAR; AIS; power winch for main, Etc. Does it all with ease: single handed, with crew or family. Contact for full listing info.

» Contact Dave Stromquist • (360) 606-9043

• dstromquist@comcast.net • $145,000 $145,000

BOATS FOR SALE

17' WHITEHALL ROW / SAILBOAT WITH TRAILER

2000 Whitehall Row/Sail Boat with Trailer. Boats in great shape. Six Oars, Rudder Drop Keel. All parts are included. Sails new. » Contact Ivan Rimar • (208) 290-6544 • rimar@turbonet.com • $8,750

$49,900

30’ YANKEE ONE SLOOP SAILBOAT

Master Mariner award winning, designed by William Starling Burgess/Stone built. Wooden hull. Roller furler. Flame totally restored in 2015. Complete survey in 2023 available. “A Sailor’s Sailboat.” Located in Richmond, CA. Classic wood racing sloop. » Contact Bob • stefroche916@gmail.com • $49,900

Bremerton Oyster Bay waterfront vacation rental. Great for anchored boat rendezvous in a protected bay. Access to beach via rental gives walking access to 24hr Winco and restaurants. 2 bedroom basemtent apartment, hot tub, kayaks and beach fire pit. $129 per night. VRBO listing 38309109. » Contact Randy Jones • (360) 895-5424 • venturecharters@gmail.com • $129

VESSEL MOVING

MARINE EQUIPMENT

The US Coast Guard Auxiliary is preparing for 2025 beginners and advanced boat classes throughout the Pacific Northwest: Bellingham, Everett, Edmonds, Port Ludlow, Seattle, Gig Harbor, Tacoma and beyond. Your instructors are experienced boat and yacht owners, operators and cruisers. Sponsored by USCGAUX, D13, Flotilla 12, Edmonds. Instruction is free as a member of the USCG Auxiliary! Membership is subject to approval. cgaux.org » Contact Kevin Coulombe (Flotilla Staff Officer - Public Education) • (206) 245-8662 • cgaux130fl12@outlook.com • $35

70’ SANTA CRUZ 70 ’85

$250,000

....................

“CHARDONNAY III” Turnkey Subchapter T vessel ready for business. Great opportunity for a swift boat with charter slip and management available.

66’ GORBON 66 ’97

$550,000

....................

“BAJAVENTO” A luxurious performance vessel that can easily be sailed shorthanded. Professionally maintained. Cruise in style and comfort.

37’ ALLIAURA PRIVILEGE 37 ’00

$190,000

....................

“GALILEO” Lightly used cruising catamaran. Updated with new standing rigging and much more. One year Santa Cruz slip possible.

53’ SOUTHERN OCEAN GALLANT 53 ’70 $139,500 “AUNTIE” Beautiful lines and superb proportions. No crew needed. This one completed a solo circumnavigation.

46’ HUNTER 460 ’00 $129,500 “ALE ER RON” Versatile yacht for liveaboard, easy daysails or serious ocean passages. Reasonable offers considered.

38’ CATALINA 380 ’97

$79,900

“FREUDIAN SLOOP” Well laid out, spaciously designed cruiser for daysailing, coastal cruising and living aboard.

37’ PACIFIC SEACRAFT PS37 ’87 $137,500 “STELLABLUE”Perfect ready-to-go cruiser. Fully equipped with the best of everything. One-year Santa Cruz slip possible.

36’ CATALINA 36 MK II ’95 $69,500 “COCKNEYREBELII”Perfect for coastal cruising and/or liveaboard. Constantly upgraded and meticulously maintained.

Escapade is the perfect racer/ cruiser for those who would like to explore the bay or ocean sail. Upon debut the Sabre 402 was named “Best Full Size Cruiser” and “Overall Winner” of Cruising World’s 1997 Boat of the Year Awards. This Jim Taylor design is a joy to sail. She is well equipped with a new dodger and bimini, a 32GPH watermaker, liferaft, Starlink and much more. Her beautiful cherry interior is warm and welcoming and offers all the comforts of home. The cabin sole is a traditional teak and holly finished bright, and the louvered cabinet doors are a top rate example of the craftsmanship that has set Sabre apart as one of the world’s top builders of quality boats.

–

allison lehman