M E M B E R S H I P • L E S S O N S
F L O T I L L A S • R A C I N G
T E A M B U I L D I N G • P R O S H O P
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Make hauling anchors easy this holiday season! Nov 11 to Dec 15
Tired of hauling anchors by hand? This holiday, treat yourself or the boater in your life to a Maxwell Windlass. Whether you sail or powerboat, Maxwell has the perfect model to make anchoring smooth and effortless.
HRC Series: Horizontal windlasses offering great performance for boats up to 52 feet
Complete your system with chain stoppers, gypsies, and other accessories.
Mighetto
One
In acting and improv, there’s a principle known as “Yes, and...” The point is to affirm another actor’s perspective and/or portrayal as truth, and build the scene from there in light of their reality; recognizing that the converse “No, but” would close the doors of possibility, not to mention disempower your fellow actor.
As many of you know, I’m returning from three months of parental leave with our second born, who is now seven months old. And you may be asking yourself, “Joe took some time off from the boating magazine, and now he wants to talk about… improv technique?” Not exactly. I haven’t donned a costume and tried to act since high school theater, but I still remember learning about this idea and appreciate it to this day. I keep thinking about applying the words in a different, though not entirely unrelated, context. To me, the offstage spirit of “Yes, and” is the acknowledgement, even encouragement, that more than one thing can be true. That our lives and time and identities and interests don't exist singularly in a vacuum, and that there’s little benefit in arbitrarily distilling or oversimplifying the inherent complexities and incongruencies in ourselves and others.
Over the past few months, I’ve been almost exclusively Dad. When I’m with my kids—at least in their respective infant and toddler stages—there’s not a lot of room for anything else. Parenting is wonderful, enchanting, and all-consuming. The rest of the world can wait… it’ll have to, ‘cause I’m busy.
In these cherished months when being Dad defines my day-to-day, it’s been a welcome surprise when I stumble across intermittent reminders of who I also am. Of my sailor self, my musician self, or my professional self. Of my husband and brother and son and friend selves. Of my bike rider, canoe paddler, wilderness enthusiast, grillmaster, and photographer selves. To embrace these parts of my life does not detract from my dad-dom. It’s not zero-sum. It’s “Yes, and…”
This has been one of the best things about coming back to work at 48° North—the occasion to say, “Oh yeah, I do this. This is me, too.”
“Yes, and” has so many applications in the world of boats. Too many people are too eager to declare themselves just one thing when it comes to boats—cruiser, racer, powerboater, sailor, coach, fisherman, adventurer. Far be it from me to throw a wet blanket on another person’s fire of passion—if it’s all fishing and absolutely nothing else for you, awesome! But even people who are comparatively specialized are probably reaping rewards and developing diverse skills that make them far more well-rounded than they feel. Do they love their Salish Sea surroundings any less than a cruiser? Optimize less than a racer? Relish the freedom of putting the throttle down and pointing the boat wherever they wish more than a pleasure boater? One of the attributes of seamanship I prize most highly is a mariner who is well-rounded.
Another favorite “Yes, and” in boating applies to the card carrying, flag waving sailors who have never and may never own their own boat. These folks befuddle those who would like to boil down the boat world to sales metrics. They make our community richer, and enable a lot of sailing that would have been difficult or impossible for boat owners to accomplish shorthanded. These people aren’t boat owners—yes, and they are unquestionably sailors.
Racers who love to cruise, power captains whose passion is sailing, salt-crusted adventurers who dig a swanky stateroom, big boat sailors who crush it in dinghies, lifelong boatfolk who still daydream like novices about where their craft might someday bring them… As we wrap up 2024, let’s embrace our “Yes, ands” at sea and ashore.
I’ll see you on the water, 48º North
Volume XLIV, Number 5, December 2024 (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.
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.
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$100/Year For Premium (perks!) www.48north.com/subscribe for details.
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Joe Cline Managing Editor, 48° North
Proud members:
Feeling Inspired
Hello 48° North,
I wanted to say thank you for publishing this magazine, I truly love it and it has inspired me to venture further and challenge myself as a sailor in the Salish Sea. So thank you for that!
Best regards,
Jesse Parker
David Linger’s Ribs?
Hi Joe,
I read both articles on David Linger (twice). Great story, well written, but.... What happened with Mr. Linger’s broken ribs? You mention them, but there are no details! So he broke his ribs on the stainless steel tiller end when the boom broke and he had to jury rig the main. What, with the pain of broken ribs? Then he continued sailing to round the Cape. Did he get out the athletic tape and wrap his torso to stabilize the ribs? What did he do to carry on before he got to Ushuaia, Argentina? I imagine he received medical attention while waiting on the repairs but still, sailing up through the Atlantic to Spain injured like that must not have been pleasant. I am impressed!
Thank you for the article, I enjoyed it immensely.
Kees van Weel
Correction to Seattle Boat Show Information in the November 2024 Issue
It has come to our attention that some of the information we included in the announcement about the Seattle Boat Show in last month’s News & Events section is outdated. First, and most important, the dates ARE correct—the Seattle Boat Show will take place from January 31 to February 8, 2025. We encourage you to visit seattleboatshow.com for the most current information, but here is the updated information about Boat Show University:
More in-depth boating courses for a fee are available through Boat Show University (BSU), and in 2025 all BSU offerings are either 2-hour ($49) or 6-hour classes ($175), and tickets for each session are sold separately. Each ticket includes same-day admission to the Seattle Boat Show and one Tunnel Club drink voucher (which must be picked up inside the show at the BSU stage and is redeemable after 4 p.m.). On select days—February 1, 3, 4, and 8—there will be meet-the-expert receptions in the Tunnel Club to complement the BSU experience. www.seatttleboatshow.com
No matter how positive or inspiring the experiences may be for students, sometimes a maritime education pathway can feel theoretical. Each opportunity's tangible benefits notwithstanding, what are their impacts in the grand scheme and how do they fit together? A personal depiction of progression can ground us in real understanding and appreciation. Enter Matt Rothschild.
The arc of Matt's story represents so much of what maritime educators— indeed anyone invested in the next generation of the maritime workforce— dream about. Matt got started young with Northwest Maritime Center, his engagement broadened and deepened, he graduated from Cal Maritime’s Oceanography program, and he's now a proud and thriving maritime professional. Matt's grandmother, Mary, shared that he's now “part of a team at UMass/ Dartmouth School for Marine Science and Technology, or SMAST, working on reviving and sustaining the sea scallop fishery, as well as studying the impacts of offshore wind turbines on scallops and other sea life.” Matt spends half his time at sea, and the other half working on data analysis in the lab. But what brought him to this point of success and stability as a marine science professional? Here's Matt's own synopsis:
this page to sharing more about these activities with you.
“I first got involved in the Northwest Maritime Center when I could barely talk and walk. I would attend the Wooden Boat Festival on my grandpa’s wooden boat, but the first summer camp I attended was the Messing About in Boats camp. Then in the following summers, I got into the Learn to Sail camps, from beginning to advanced small boat sailing. In 7th grade, I attended the Maritime Discovery Program. In high school, I took all the maritime courses, including Vessel Operations, Maritime Boat Building, Maritime Manufacturing, and Schooner School. Finally, in my senior year of high school, I was part of the inaugural Port Townsend Maritime Academy.”
Mary Rothschild put Matt's experience in perspective. “Matt got to this point with the help of so many supporters and mentors at Northwest Maritime—from learning boat handling, woodworking, and navigation skills at summer camps and his maritime classes in high school, to the confidence building of his internship job at Pygmy Kayak, and being a deckhand on the Admiral Jack. His new bosses have told him his resume was impressive, and helped him stand out from hundreds of applicants.”
Matt's story is extraordinary, but thanks to the passion, efforts, and commitment of maritime educators and the vision of the ever-evolving programs provided by Northwest Maritime and others like it, there are more paths than ever for a story like this to become remarkably ordinary.
INSPIRED BY MATT’S STORY?
SUPPORT THE PROGRAMS THAT HELPED HIM THRIVE. 'TIS THE SEASON!
You can make it possible for even more young people like Matt to pursue their dreams of maritime futures, with a year-end donation to Northwest Maritime. Your gift of any amount will help sustain the organization’s handson maritime education and career training programs, as well as community engagement activities for people of all generations and backgrounds.
Demand for the life-changing experiences offered by Northwest Maritime only grows. Meeting that demand is only possible with help from caring readers like you. Your gift will ensure that many more young people like Matt can chart their course toward maritime futures.
And, if you give by December 31, your gift will be doubled, thanks to a handful of very generous individuals who gave $50,000 to create a Year-End Challenge Fund. Double your impact with your tax-deductible gift today at nwmaritime.org/year-end-challenge/.
The Southern Sound Series (SSS) is Puget Sound’s biggest winter racing series and it will be familiar to most racing sailors in the Pacific Northwest. The SSS draws boats from around the region for the best attended, most competitive, and most fun offseason series in the area. The series is comprised of four monthly events, each co-hosted by a home club and the South Sound Sailing Society. The series kicks off this month with Tacoma Yacht Club’s Winter Vashon Race on December 7, and is followed by the Duwamish Head Race hosted by Three Tree Point Yacht Club (January 4, 2025), and then down to Olympia Yacht Club’s Toliva Shoal Race (February 15, 2025). Traditionally, the fourth and final stop has been hosted by Gig Harbor Yacht Club and the racecourse sent sailors up Colvos Passage and back. This year, however, the hosting duties have been passed to Corinthian Yacht Club of Tacoma (CYCT) for the series’s last installment.
While the final race will keep its name, the Islands Race (taking place March 15), CYCT is debuting a brand new course for 2025, and it should be an exciting new adventure even for the longest-tenured SSS racer. According to the Sailing Instructions, the Islands Race will bring sailors from a start/finish area near Brown’s Point, northward to a turning mark north of Blake Island. The instructions indicate that racers must keep several marks to port both going out and returning, which is likely to create some interesting decisions for navigators and tacticians
as they are constrained to one side of the Sound or the other. Even with those course stipulations, the route generally should involve a broader and more diverse sailing area than Colvos Passage. At the very least, it’s something new to try. The total distance is approximately 32.5 miles.
You can find more information from the South Sound Sailing Society, and be sure to keep up with CYC Tacoma (www.cyct.com) for more information if you’re attending the Islands Race in March 2025.
» www.ssssclub.com/southern-sound-series-racing/
Are you training yet? Do you have your boat picked out? How about your crew... or are you going solo? Those questions are important, but the time has come to register for the Seventy48 and WA360 races.
SEVENTY48
The annual slog-fest covering 70 miles from Tacoma to Port Townsend in 48 hours kicks off on June 6, 2025, in the Thea Foss Waterway and the rules are simple—no motors, no support, and no wind. That’s right. HUMAN POWER ONLY. Pedal, paddle, or row. It’s up to you. Application deadline is May 1 and the registration deadline is May 15. The starting gun goes off at 7:00 p.m., and teams have 30 minutes to cross the start line. After that, it’s up to you.
WA360
WA360 is back! Originally run in 2021, this is an adventure race that celebrates pushing limits without the constraints of rules or the fuss of fancy galas—just raw, unfiltered competition, right here in the Pacific Northwest. The race is a 360(ish) mile loop from Port Townsend to Port Townsend, threading through Washington’s waterways and bringing you within spitting distance of dozens of PNW communities. The race starts on June 28, 2025 at 11 a.m. at Northwest Maritime in Port Townsend. When it comes to your race craft, anything that floats and abides by maritime law is eligible—whether it’s a sailboat, paddle craft, or something you cobbled together in your garage, it’s welcome in WA360.
Apply at » www.nwmaritime.org
Washington State Parks is conducting a survey to help them enhance sewage disposal resources, and by taking it, you’ll be entered to win a $500 gift card.
Whether it’s less wait times at pumpouts, more port-a-potty dump stations, the need for information, or if your boat has a head or not—they want your input. It takes less than 10 minutes and is designed to work with your mobile device, so it’s very easy to do, even when on your boat! It's important for actual boaters to provide real information when given our chance to make our voices heard like this! Plus, at the end of the survey you can enter to win a drawing for a $500 VISA gift card. » 48north.com/news/take-washingtonstate-parks-boater-survey/
Seattle Boat Show Feb 2nd,3rd,4th, 2025
Sail Inventory, Sail Trim, Professionals Panel
Two-Day Hands-On Sail Repair PT, WA
April 26th -27th, 2025 October 25th-26th, 2025
Mahina Offshore Workshop Anacortes, WA March 8th-9th, 2025 Taking
As we review 2024, like all of you, we look back with joyful memories on the water as well as the sting of trials and loss. For us at 48° North, and many throughout the marine industry and boating world, this reflective time of year is an occasion to remember pillars of our Pacific Northwest community who ended their watch this year. It goes without saying that there are more beloved and influential people who have passed on than we could hope to adequately memorialize, and we join you in honoring those not named here, but we wanted to take this moment to remember John Guzzwell, Kurt Hoehne, and Darrin Towe.
In late August 2024, ocean sailing legend John Guzzwell passed away at age 94. He died peacefully at his home near Seattle, Washington, with his wife Dorothy by his side.
Born in England, Guzzwell emigrated to Canada in 1953 and shortly after, began building Trekka, a 21-foot yawl, in downtown Victoria. Designed by J. Laurent Giles, the boat was considered to be way ahead of its time, with a light, shallow hull, reverse sheer, and an early cruising fin keel and semi-spade rudder.
In 1955, when John was 25, he set sail from Victoria, British Columbia aboard Trekka, and took four years to circumnavigate the globe. When Guzzwell returned home on September 12, 1959, after 33,000 miles, he was given a triumphant reception by more than 3,000 spectators. His book about the voyage, Trekka Round the World, would go on to inspire generations of offshore sailors. Throughout the rest of his life, Guzzwell remained a longtime supporter of boat building and maritime history on the west coast, including giving talks and presentations at countless clubs and festivals.
- Andy Cross
On July 31, while at home, Kurt Hoehne collapsed from a sudden and massive brain hemorrhage. He died on August 1st, after becoming an organ donor.
Kurt’s love for sailing was ingrained in him from the very beginning. His father, a passionate sailor, sailed his mother across Lake Mendota on a 17-foot Silhouette to the hospital in Madison, Wisconsin, where Kurt was born. A couple of days later, the three of them sailed back across the lake, marking the start of Kurt’s lifelong journey with the sea.
An accomplished sailor and journalist in the sailing industry, Kurt started the website Sailish.com in 2016 to share his passion for sailboat racing in the PNW, and was a broker for Swiftsure Yachts. He competed in many of the major and minor races around the Salish Sea, which gave him a perspective that we all appreciated because of his ability to put the experience into words.
A tireless fighter for the sailing community in the PNW, Kurt’s involvement with the Corinthian Yacht Club, Sail Sand Point, and the Northwest Marine Trade Association reflected this. He also never met a person with whom he couldn’t have a pleasant conversation, and any conversation with Kurt was full of little treasures that you tend never to forget. His quick wit, sarcasm, and intellect were always appreciated.
- Bruce Hedrick
Darrin Towe—a beloved, respected, and notoriously fun-loving member of the Pacific Northwest sailing community— tragically lost his life in a plane crash on February 7, 2024. The sad news came during the Seattle Boat Show, and friends around the show and the region were devastated.
Darrin, a pilot by trade, split time living life to its fullest in Mats Mats Bay and La Ventana in Baja. He was an accomplished racing sailor, ascending to top-level competition in numerous classes, including the TP52 Med Cup with John Buchan’s Glory program and campaigning his always-well-sailed Melges 32, Wicked Wahine. In addition to sailing, Darrin was also an award-winning athlete and an avid outdoorsman, with wide-ranging interests including kite surfing, wing foiling, and dirt biking, among other things.
In 48° North’s March issue, Darrin’s longtime friend and fellow pilot, Peter Stewart, shared the Cherokee crew’s toast to their friend’s memory during the Toliva Shoal Race, which they executed on the fastest leg of the race, appropriate since Darrin loved going fast: “Since we were on the fastest leg of the day… we made an abbreviated salute to DTX, cups held high as we paid respect to a life well lived pursuing so many passions and adventures.”
- Joe Cline
Business or Pleasure, AquaDrive will make your boat smoother, quieter and vibration free.
The AquaDrive system solves a problem nearly a century old; the fact that marine engines are installed on soft engine mounts and attached almost rigidly to the propeller shaft.
The very logic of AquaDrive is inescapable. An engine that is vibrating
on soft mounts needs total freedom of movement from its propshaft if noise and vibration are not to be transmitted to the hull. The AquaDrive provides just this freedom of movement. Tests proved that the AquaDrive with its softer engine mountings can reduce vibration by 95% and structure borne noise by 50% or more. For information, call Drivelines NW today.
S. Brandon St, Seattle, WA 98108 • (206) 622-8760 Visit Our Web Site: www.aquadrive.net
by Bryan Henry
The blue whale, basking shark, and whale shark feed in the same way as a manta ray.
The “head” of an octopus is called a mantle. The mantle holds the octopus’s organs: heart, stomach, brain and kidneys.
The blood of an octopus is blue.
An octopus can change colors using special pigment cells called chromatophores.
Each of an octopus’s eight arms is lined with two rows of suction cups. A single arm may have more than 200 suction cups.
1 Shout at sea to draw attention, 2 words
6 Vineyard in France
8 Berg material
10 Give another ship a ___ ___ : enough space for maneuver when moored in the dock
11 Longer
13 Roll out the sails
15 Luxury sailing vessel
17 Watch brand
18 Line used to raise the head of any sail
20 “I’m impressed!”
22 International ____ of signals
23 San Pedro port is in this state, abbr.
25 Yellowfin tuna
26 Word that can mean a flag or a sailor
28 Current measurement
30 It’s used at sea when deep fishing
33 Navigators
35 One of the overlapping boards in a clinker-built hull
37 Become stronger
38 Barnyard male
» See solution on page 50
1 Type of compass used to establish position
2 Dangerously steep and breaking seas
3 Pull another ship, say
4 Countercurrent
5 Condition where a sailing vessel is confined between two capes or headlands, typically where the wind is blowing directly onshore.
6 Netherlands Antilles island
7 Disconnect
9 State of being in charge of a ship’s movements while at sea
12 Germany’s continent, abbr.
14 A point of sail from about 60° to about 160° off the wind
16 Agricultural, for short
17 Strange
19 Disturbs
21 Furniture wood
23 Bay of Naples island
24 French for friend
26 Landing wharf
27 Mariner’s navigation aid
29 Work out, as a course
31 Canadian province, initials
32 Width of the boat at its widest point, measured perpendicular to the boat’s length
34 Cargo weight measurement
36 “The Life of __” film about a
and a tiger at sea
Some octopi have tentacles 14 feet in length.
The mouth of an octopus is similar to a parrot’s beak.
Jellyfish have no brains, heart, blood, bones or gills.
The stingers of jellyfish are self-contained firing mechanisms. They have tiny sensors that detect movements by other creatures. When triggered, sensors fire a barb called a nematocyst like a harpoon.
Jellyfish are found in every ocean and even in some freshwater lakes.
The long tentacles of jellyfish are armed with thousands of stinging cells.
The Lion’s Mane jellyfish is the biggest jellyfish, growing to more than six feet in diameter.
Jellyfish have no control over their stingers, even inflicting painful stings after death.
Jellyfish’s bodies are made of a jellylike substance called “mesoglea” that are sandwiched between two layers of cells.
The Pacific Ridley is the smallest sea turtle, measuring about 28 inches long and weighing about 80 pounds.
The largest sea turtle is the Leatherback, reaching more than six feet long and weighing a ton.
Apart from sea snakes, sea turtles are the only reptiles that spend virtually their entire lives at sea.
British Columbia based Mustang Survival recently launched its redesigned Offshore Sailing Collection, which features the new EP 6.5 Ocean Dry Top, EP 6.5 Ocean Jacket, EP 6.5 Ocean Spray Smock, and EP 6.5 Ocean Salopette. Built with mil-spec 6.5 GORE-TEX, the collection is designed to keep offshore sailors dry and comfortable for optimal performance on open water. Perfect for the rigors of the Pacific Northwest, all the products integrate seamlessly together through fit and function to create a high-performing offshore kit. Every EP piece that leaves the production line is 100% individually leak-tested to Mustang Survival’s drysuit leak test standards. The Ocean Dry Top is the most rugged and waterproof shell in the line-up, featuring an innovative removable hood system with face coverage. The Ocean Jacket has a removable hood, upgraded pocketing with zippers, and fleece lined hand warmers. The revised Ocean Spray Smock offers the ultimate watertight protection with seals, a neoprene waist gasket, and streamlined pocketing. And The Ocean Salopette has adjustable straps at the shoulders, waist, and knees for layering purposes, and twin cargo pockets with a window.
Price: Starting at $849.99 » www.mustangsurvival.com
Building on their new lineup of winches launched earlier in 2024, Seldén Mast has recently announced their E-SERIES Electric winches—the E40, E46, E52, E60, and E66. The winches operate with three velocities for precise and efficient sail handling. The highspeed mode is an electric overdrive and perfect when pulling the slack out of a long and unloaded genoa or Code Zero sheet. The Electric winches are manual two-speed winches fitted to a SEL-Bus-driven motor pack allowing for a third high-speed velocity. The backup solution, in case you run out of power, is to put a winch handle in the socket and grind. This concept also allows you to upgrade your manual winches to electric at a later stage. The brushless motor packs are powered by Seldén’s Power Supply Unit converting 12/24V to 42V, which makes for an efficient and compact design of the motor assembly and thin 10 AWG power cables. The drums are forged and machined hard anodized aluminum with vertical ribs located in an asymmetric pattern.
Price: Starting at $3,105 » www.seldenmast.com
While not a must, having an anchor-to-chain connector on your ground tackle is a good idea, as it provides a strong snag-free joint between the two points. The ULTRA Flip Swivel is a uniquely fabricated anchor swivel, connecting the chain and the anchor without the need of additional shackles. Fabricated from 316Ti stainless steel and hand polished for a clean presentation on the bow, the ULTRA Flip Swivel is strong, streamlined, and does not require any locking pins or safety wires. The breaking strength of the swivel is typically higher than the chain it is connected to, and allows for 30 degree rotation with complete 360 degree swivel due to its flipping nub and rear bridge. This flipping nub, combined with the rotation and complete 360 degree swivel ability, ensures setting and recovering your anchor is easy and safe. The swivel is available in a variety of sizes starting at 3/16-inch.
Price: Starting at $549.99 » www.ultramarine-anchors.com
Iby Bruce Bateau
never want to go sailing on a lake. The boundaries are known, I can see the destination; the horizon of possibilities is limited. I paddle or sail around, and around, and around. If racing around the marks is your game, then maybe the placid waters of a lake are for you. If wandering is in your soul, like mine, then a lake is a kind of prison.
On a river in my rowboat or sailboat, even if I have just a few hours, there’s possibility. Although it’s unlikely and irresponsible, there’s the chance that I just might keep going and going and not turn back towards home. Things wash downstream, sometimes including me and my small craft. Conditions change based on rain and tide. The flow quickens; logs, sections of dock, debris, and items better left unidentified clog the waters. Come late winter and spring, for denizens of the confluence of the Willamette and the Columbia Rivers along the Oregon/Washington border, those changing conditions that make river sailing interesting, sometimes make it nearly impossible to enjoy our sport.
That’s when small boat sailors who can’t stop sailing head to the lakes. Most recently, it was on the Oregon side of the river that my friend Bill and I took our rowing craft to Smith and Bybee Lakes. Technically, the “lakes” area is a seasonal wetland, where the water rises and falls, depending on the level of the Columbia River. When the water is high, the river spreads and rises over the lake’s shallows. If you have a hand-carry boat, you might just have the place to yourself. Metro Parks, which
manages the site, describes it on their website as “one of the region’s best kept secrets.”
Bill and I pushed our rowboats down the gravel path that doubles as a launch ramp, through a thicket of shrubby willows, where we quickly encountered ankle-deep mud. I probed with an oar to see if there might be solid ground beneath. It was too early in the day to lose a boot or deal with a wet sock. Luckily, the ratio of mud to water to solid ground was passable with some teamwork. With one person lifting and pushing, and the other pulling, we were able to wrestle the boats into enough water to float; once aboard, we polled ourselves into slightly deeper water. It was becoming clear why Smith and Bybee Wetlands might be such a secret.
But once we were out in the sunshine, afloat on Smith Lake, there was a completely different feeling—one of brightness and joy. The mirror-like water was a welcome break from the murky, current-riddled river that is usually our sailing ground. We had escaped the thrall of the land and were free to explore. In the distance, rafts of diving ducks scooted across the lake. A heron waded near the shore. Someplace far away, a train was whistling. Although surrounded by the city and an industrial zone, we had slipped into a sliver of wild.
Gliding along the edge of rusty red and dull green willow clusters emerging from the water, we could see across the lake, but not farther down the shore. Periodically, Bill raised his binoculars—was that splash a sign of nutria or perhaps an otter? I eyed a clump of dormant tan grass, hoping to spot a secretive bittern, but instead a goofy looking coot bobbed its head as it passed me, unconcerned.
The unknown pulled us to see what was around the corner. From a map view, a clear snake-like channel connects Smith to Bybee Lake, but on the water there was no obvious distinction between a beaver-chewed break in the shrubs and the channel itself, until we nosed into it with our boats. In the calm water, it didn’t take long to find the channel, and shortly thereafter to notice a mound of sticks blocking the passage.
Bill arrived at the obstruction first, but even from a distance I was fairly certain that I knew what I was seeing: a beaver lodge. Lodges are rare on our local streams and rivers, as most beavers live in burrows, so the chance to see one up close was enchanting. Although this one looked aged, it was apparent that it wasn’t just a jumble of chewed sticks; the lodge was a piece of carefully constructed natural architecture. We spent a
few minutes floating around the edges, admiring the care that the beaver took in making it before rowing past it, close to the flooded shore.
A group of dabbling ducks burst into flight when a pair of bald eagles glided by, their broad wings momentarily dominating the sky. We watched in awe as one eagle effortlessly alighted on a tall power pole, while the other skimmed the treetops and surveyed the edge of Bybee Lake, perhaps in search of dinner.
We rowed on, down a sinuous channel, easily wide enough for our wing-like oars, but not always deep enough to avoid scraping them in the shallows. As we emerged into the next lake, a couple of mergansers drifted by, their sleek feathers and hooked beaks reminding us of their prowess in catching fish below the surface.
As the afternoon wore on, a chill settled in the air. The pull of home overcame our interest in exploring and bird watching. We rowed back through the channel and towards the launch ramp, now obscured by a thicket of willows. It would be challenging to wind our way back through the flooded forest, and I lingered before heading into the shade.
Under normal circumstances, the wide-open river is the only place for me. Yet today, with no “normal” body of water available, I’d escaped the confinement of sulking at home by going to a dreaded lake. And I had to admit, it was nice to be proved wrong. In the right conditions a lake is not a prison, after all. In fact, it’s a get-out-of-jail-free card.
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
A rare beaver dam was an unexpected yet intriguing obstacle.
It’s winter now. The rain has set in, it’s 41 degrees outside and I have a cozy fire going in the woodstove. It is comforting to know that our C-Dory 22, Sea Lab, is sitting safe on her trailer just outside. Though I miss the sense of possibility that comes with having the boat in a slip, ready to go, I also don’t have to run down to the marina to check that the bilge pump is still working or that the dock lines aren’t chafing through the chilly, stormy months.
As soon as I accept the fact that I’m probably not going out on the water again until sometime next spring, my mind wanders. I start thinking about the upcoming Seattle Boat Show and all the cool boating stuff to look at, which in turn really gets me excited about the coming season. Of course, the next stop for that train is: What did we do this past year? It’s a perfect question as this year draws to a close. So, I pull out my boat log and, sure enough, it’s all there.
Thumbing through our log, there aren’t very many pages for 2024. This year was meager in the boating department! We certainly had some good times out on
the water, but not nearly as many as in past years—only seven days on the boat! Usually, we get at least 30, some years more or slightly less… but seven?
I am able to reference this information because, ever since we started with our first sailboat, I’ve been keeping a record (call it a journal if you want) of every time we go out. And really, it goes back further than that. Tekla and I have journal entries of pretty much every trip we’ve been on in our 30 years together, whether it’s canoeing, backpacking, cross-country car camping, or poking around in England for a couple weeks—it’s all there. We started out thinking it might be a nice thing to read in our dotage, but my practice of log keeping began with my career in horticulture. At the botanical garden where I have spent most of the last 35 years, I was tasked with propagating plants from all over the world, many of which were not in western cultivation and consequently no information existed on how to propagate and grow them. This necessitated obsessive record keeping, without which it would have been nearly impossible to figure out
by Dennis Bottemiller
cultural requirements associated with these scientific collections. This attitude valuing the process and benefits of written logs seemed to bleed into the rest of my life. And here I am, a dedicated and enthusiastic record keeper.
Plenty of ink has been spilled about the importance of log keeping in boating, but I’ve personally found my propensity for it has come in handy in many ways. I keep three types of records while we enjoy our favorite pasttime: a daily start/stop log with engine hours and tide/current timings; a trip journal of where we go and people we meet; and a maintenance and fix-it log for when things break and how long it takes me to make the repair. This last one is especially helpful because, if I don’t write down things when they become non-functional, I won’t remember it until next time I need it—which causes double frustration!
Not long-ago, Sea Lab’s trim tabs quit working and I couldn’t figure out what the problem was. When we pulled her out of the marina for the winter, I asked the shop to have a look at them while they were winterizing the motor. It turned out to be the control switch and it took a couple weeks for the replacement part to arrive. After it was taken care of, I picked Sea Lab up and went on my way to winter storage. The next spring when we put the boat back in the water, there were 73 more engine hours than when we had pulled out in the fall, and I had the records to prove it. It’s a good shop and, when I called months later, we figured out that the key had been left on after the work was performed. They agreed to replace the hour meter and run it up to the number of hours it had when I had brought it in to them. If I had not kept that log documenting when we start and stop, I probably would never have known that I had that much extra run time on the hour meter but not on the motor.
In our little notebook, I like to jot down other information about our journeys,
like whale sightings, things on shore that I want to look up later, fuel stops, and tide and current timings. Often, I will refer to the little underway notebook when I am writing in the boat log, which I often do the following morning with coffee—my favorite time of day. Thinking about the previous days’ travel while getting my brain started in the morning is always a very pleasant way to begin the day.
Looking back through the boat log now, it’s fun to revisit some of the things we wrote early on in our learning-to-sail years. Our first night staying on the boat in Point Hudson Marina in Port Townsend is one example. We were on our first sailboat, a little Venture 17 called Seashell, that we trailered from our home at the time in Buckley to Boat Haven in Port Townsend. Once in the water, we sailed one mile to Point Hudson Marina to spend the weekend camping in our little boat and running around town having a great time. On Sunday morning, we pulled out of Point Hudson and motored our Johnson 3.3 one mile back to the Boat Haven. We ran out of gas at the marina entrance but fortunately we had a canoe paddle on board and were able to make it back to the ramp. We loaded up and went home, and had a grand time imagining all the places we could go in that little boat. Our first overnight “sail” trip 22 years ago paved the way for so many adventures to follow, and it’s rewarding to relive its details in our log. Many entries and boats later, we have the stories of Juan de Fuca crossings, trips through the San Juan and Gulf islands, lightning storms and calm weather—our rich history on the water.
Only one of our boats came with a log that was passed down to us at purchase— the Cal 27 Moondance. It was a nice thing to have while we were getting to know Moondance, and had records of all the maintenance and installations the previous two owners had performed.
We are the fourth owners of our current boat Sea Lab and, while we didn’t get any records from the previous two owners, we did inherit a notebook kept by the man who had Sea Lab built in Kent, Washington. His name was Earnest A. Dahl, and he had a special purpose for the boat—he was doing research for the U.S. Navy on an electronic system called Two Wire Automatic Remote Sensing
Reviewing the previous day's travels and discoveries, and putting them in the boat log over coffee the next morning.
Evaluation System (TWARSES for short). We were quite puzzled when we first looked at Sea Lab and saw this acronym alongside the boat name, but didn’t think too much of it other than it seemed like an oddly named boat. Digging through the couple boxes of stuff that always come with a pre-owned boat, we found E.A. Dahl’s build journal of notes he made during the assembly of the C-Dory that became Sea Lab—literally his laboratory for electronic research in Ventura, California—including how he would fit it out for his lab work. While it’s fascinating to have a window into our boat’s backstory, the one thing in his journal that I really like and now use is a simple magazine cutout of a Coleman stove with two clay garden pots turned upside-down over the burners, explaining how the pots will hold onto and radiate heat “like rocks in a sauna” and can thus be used as a cabin heater. I had never heard of this
A clever trick found in the build log of Sea Lab's original owner—clay pots over burners hold and distribute heat like a heater.
idea before and tried it on Sea Lab’s Origo alcohol stove; sure enough, it works quite well, certainly well enough to warm up our small cabin on a chilly morning while I’m sipping my coffee and swinging on the anchor in a secluded bay.
Back in real time next to the woodstove, I’m grateful for these logs, and the practice of keeping them. Their tangible utility notwithstanding, paging through and remembering these trips is satisfying like looking at old photo albums. Though we have many years of happy boating adventures ahead of us, it’s fun to reminisce and track our whereabouts, memories, and learnings. At the very least, records like these come in handy if you ever want to write a column for your favorite boating magazine.
Dennis, Tekla, and Tim Tim the sailor dog recently changed their home cruising waters from Tacoma to Case Inlet.
A dipstick is a key guide during an oil change. Note the bad news on this one... metalic glitter in the oil is an indication of damage resulting from running the engine without oil.
by Meredith Anderson
Winter is upon us and many boaters are preparing their engines for winter storage, when they may sit or only be run periodically over the next few months. During the winterization process, one of the more important maintenance items is to change the oil prior to storage, just as changing the oil prior to the boating season is also a good idea. While changing your oil isn’t terribly complicated, it can be intimidating for those who have not tackled the project before or those who have but ran into some unforeseen trouble. I hope the following tips and tricks will aid you in the process and reveal some reasons that oil changes are so beneficial to your engine in the long run. Take your time and don’t skimp on the products or the procedure—it is worth the money and effort to do it right.
Before starting the oil change, run your engine first and warm it up. This will suspend any debris that is not captured by the filter and help the oil drain quickly and easily. Warm oil is less viscous and will flow much easier; and during a recent
circulation of oil, any condensation or crud that may have formed on metallic surfaces will be picked up during operation and come out with the oil. The more contaminants you can get out, the better.
NEXT STEPS: USE A HIGH QUALITY OIL FILTER AND DON’T OVERTIGHTEN IT.
After warming up your oil, the first step of an oil change is to drain the engine of its old oil. Most of the time with boat engines, that means using either a pump or vacuum extractor. This is followed by replacing your oil filter.
When you go to install a new filter, make sure to use high quality components to prevent further issues over the long term. I have seen many engines with the wrong oil filter installed, like a fuel filter that happens to fit in the oil filter’s place, or just the world’s cheapest, crappiest oil filter. Cheap filters from brands like Fram or Carquest are not built with much of a quality standard, so avoid these as they tend to disintegrate over a short period of time. Check your manual for the recommended filter and, if possible, buy one that meets or exceeds the manufacturer’s specs. For example, Cummins engines call for Fleetgaurd brand filters since they meet Cummins’ minimum filter specs and are great filters, but if you want an even higher quality filter, a Caterpiller filter would exceed their specs for an oil filter. You can actually void the warranty if you were to run something like a Fram on a modern Cummins or CAT diesel engine.
For those of us sailors with smaller engines and compartments,
we most likely won’t be able to find a small enough CAT filter to fit our Kubota or Yanmar engines. In this case, finding a manufacturer-branded filter (like BETA, Yanmar, or Universal) or a Kubota brand filter will do the job more than well enough as those filters are built to meet or exceed their engine’s requirements for filtration.
For those of you with super strong hands, please don’t crank that filter on tight. Lube your filter O-ring with oil or a lubricant like Sil-Glyde and you will have a much easier time getting it off. I can’t tell you how many filters I have destroyed trying to get them off. Not fun.
Choosing the correct engine oil for your diesel engine is as simple as checking your manual and checking in with a professional if your engine has special circumstances like excessive wear or burning oil. Most mechanical diesel engines call for 15w-40 or 10w-30 “mineral” oils, meaning they are not synthetic. Since a majority of the mechanical engines I work on are flat tappet engines, I recommend a brand like Chevron, which has a higher zinc content in it that is good for keeping flat tappet engines happy. Make sure to not mix different weights of oils and also don’t mix synthetic with mineral oils. If the engine calls for a synthetic oil or a certain weight of oil, stick to that unless you are burning oil or the engine is very worn. In that case it’s best to consult a mechanic who can recommend a change in oil that may help.
Synthetic oil contains more detergents and can harm old engines by potentially loosening up carbon deposits that have been there for a while. On more modern diesels, sometimes lighter-weight synthetic oils can be used, as the engine may have hydraulic components that are run with engine oil. An example of this may be hydraulic lifters or variable valve timing—commonly seen on automotive engines, but also out there on certain marinized diesel applications. If you are in a climate where the temperatures drop or rise dramatically, then refer to your manual about when to run higher/lower weight oils for differing outside temps. Here in the Pacific Northwest, we are lucky because we don’t typically experience dramatic temperature fluctuations, so we can get away with running one type and weight of oil year-round.
Major damage on a rebuilt engine that has less than 150 hours on it, caused by contaminants left in the oil after the rebuild.
This may seem obvious, but there is such a thing as too much good stuff. When you refill your engine with fresh oil, fill to the top line on the dipstick and then run the engine for a few seconds to build oil pressure before checking the dipstick again to top off. This allows the oil galleries to fill and the empty filter to fill. Don’t overfill the engine though, too much oil in the oil pan can come into contact with the rotating assembly of the crankshaft and become agitated and foamy—things that we don’t want. Most oils have an anti-foam agent in their ingredient list, however this can only do so much. Foamy oil will not be able to create a solid oil film in between bearing surfaces and other metal contact surfaces, thus you will have metal-onmetal damage and that is just as harmful as running the engine when it is low on oil. It’s easy to avoid damage like this. If you overfilled a bit, no worries, just extract/drain it out.
Once you’ve refilled your engine with fresh oil and have installed your new filter, you are done with your oil change. Make sure to log this in your records, or at least include a sticker on the engine or filter so you know the hours and date of when you did it last. This will be helpful to you, your mechanic, and/ or your boat’s future owner.
Changing the oil is probably one of the most basic, yet important, items on our maintenance to-do lists. Oil not only lubricates our metallic sliding/rotating assembly, but it also helps to clean and keep things cool as well. Changing your oil before winter storage is helpful as it can remove contaminants from the boating season like acids and other crud that forms over time. If you want to “flush” your engine, never use an engine flush or cleaners inside the engine. Changing your oil several times in rapid succession can really help clean out your engine just like in the break-in period for a new engine. Take your time, use good quality materials, and your engine will thank you.
Meredith Anderson is the owner of Meredith’s Marine Services, where she operates a mobile mechanic service and teaches hands-on marine diesel classes to groups and in private classes aboard clients’ own vessels.
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by Lisa Mighetto
Roche Harbor is like something out of a fairy tale—a weird and wondrous sea story with ancient (or at least aging) mariners, historic vessels, wandering spirits, ethereal bells, and a pleasant marina, all surrounded by an enchanted forest. From the moment I docked here years ago during my first cruise to the San Juan Islands, it has been my favorite stop.
Initially, it was the comfort that appealed to me. As our sailboat approached guest moorage, two crisply dressed dock hands helped us tie up and sign in. The showers were the best I’d seen at any marina in the Pacific Northwest. Neighboring power boats towered above our smaller vessel on all sides.
“So, this is how the other half lives,” I muttered to Frank as we walked down the dock. “I could get used to it.”
Reportedly, actor Ted Danson occupied one of the nearby boats (I never saw him). A few years later, my family ducked into the protected waters of Roche Harbor, located on the northern tip of San Juan Island, after a very spirited sail on an Outbound 46 in Spieden Channel. Once again, I got a glimpse of the charming waterfront bursting with flowers, tidy gardens, and genteel manners. My relatives still talk about watching the Colors Ceremony over cocktails at sunset.
One of the things I’ve come to love about Roche Harbor is how quickly the layers of history are revealed, even to a casual observer. Its story is written on the surface of the land and sea. A Coast Salish community known as Wh’lehl-kluh once thrived here, erecting longhouses and shell middens, still visible along the shore. Tribal vessels continue to stop at Roche Harbor during the annual Canoe Journey, as they paddle through their ancestral marine highways.
British officer Richard Roche scouted the area in the 1840s and 1850s, looking for a site for the Royal Marines encampment during a period when the United States and the United Kingdom had agreed to occupy the San Juans jointly.
(For a description of the resulting “Pig War,” see “Sentinels of San Juan Island,” in the August 2022 issue of 48° North).
The eventual location, English Camp, is located in Garrison Bay just south of Roche Harbor and is now managed by the National Park Service; it can be viewed today from the water and ashore.
During the late nineteenth century, Roche Harbor became a company town dominated by the lime industry. In 1886 attorney John S. McMillin established the Tacoma and Roche Harbor Lime Co. on the waterfront, expanding on existing lime works and doubling production. McMillin’s company blasted quarries to mine the limestone, while constructing warehouses, offices, wharves, and loading platforms to store, sell, and transport it. His company installed several new kilns to burn the limestone into powder, a process called calcination. The resulting lime—used as mortar for masonry buildings, in the production of paper, and as a fertilizer—was in high demand in this
rapidly developing region. Within a few years, McMillin’s company became the largest lime works on the West Coast.
Today, remnants of a lime kiln can be seen from the docks, and as boaters approach they can easily see the intact layout of the original village rising up the hill. When McMillin established his lime operations, Roche Harbor was a relatively remote and isolated outpost in the San Juan Islands. In the paternalist manner of a nineteenth-century industrialist, McMillin provided just about everything his employees needed, including a store, church, hotel, school, doctor’s office, and post office, as well as small, uniform cottages. Most of these structures are still there, suggesting the orderly, controlled, hierarchical life of the lime baron and laborers working and living side by side.
Employees at Roche Harbor included Scandinavians and Russians. There were also Japanese men and their “picture brides”—arranged through a matchmaker who paired women with immigrant workers using photographs and family recommendations—who lived in segregated sheds near the barrel factory. In the early years, wages were paid in the form of script that was good only on site, at the company store.
McMillin’s picturesque home stood at the center of the village, overlooking the water and the adjacent sunken gardens. The 22-room Hotel de Haro, located nearby, housed distinguished guests visiting the factory and waterfront. McMillin was a friend and advisor to many politicians and statesmen, and at one point narrowly missed being elected to the US Senate. He served as a delegate to the Republican National Convention for several years. President Theodore Roosevelt visited McMillin in Roche Harbor in 1906, sleeping in the Hotel de Haro. As a flamboyant gesture, Roosevelt called in the destroyer USS Jones, which anchored in view of Roche Harbor on its way to the Pacific. McMillin, also seeking to impress, arranged a sumptuous salmon barbecue on nearby Henry Island, including a live band and a dance on a tree-lined barge. Later, McMillin similarly entertained President William Howard Taft at Roche Harbor.
Little has changed since McMillin’s day, at least in terms of the village
infrastructure and what it suggests about social interactions. “It’s not difficult to conjure the actions, antics and feelings of the people of Roche Harbor during the past century,” wrote one observer in 1972. “The ghosts are there for anyone who wants them—and maybe even for some who don’t.” (Lynette Evans and George Burley, Roche Harbor: A Saga in the San Juans, 1972).
The hotel, with its extensive veranda, railing, and turret, has an Old World vibe that inevitably inspires spooky stories. Many tales feature Adah Beeny (sometimes spelled “Ada Beane”) who may have served as a governess and personal secretary to the McMillins and died—possibly while pregnant—under mysterious circumstances. Her spirit reportedly lingers in the hotel. “Things happen in this building,” a front desk clerk informed me recently. “Doors slam and windows rattle for no reason.” According to some accounts, Ada haunts the adjacent restaurant as well. Whatever your view on the spectral residents of Roche Harbor, it is clear that John S. McMillin’s vision for the company town casts a long shadow
that is visible to this day.
Passenger steamers, barges, and tugs crowded Roche Harbor during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Ships were essential for transporting barrels of lime, and the Tacoma and Roche Harbor Lime Co. maintained its own fleet, including Archer, a schooner purchased in 1906. This vessel became famous for its quick runs carrying lime to San Francisco, a city rebuilding after the great earthquake and fire. Lime is a highly combustible cargo, and several vessels, including La Conner and J.B. Libby of the mosquito fleet, burned and sank while transporting it.
For McMillin, the pride of Roche Harbor was his yacht Calcite. In September 1908, the lime baron, who was commodore of the Roche Harbor Yacht Club, joined fellow magnate R.P. Butchart (who developed his quarry into Butchart Gardens), McMillin’s son Fred, and photographer J.A. McCormick on a three-week cruise to Princess Louisa Inlet aboard this boat. Built on Lopez Island, Calcite was “quite
These animal skins displayed on Calcite came from several hunting expeditions during the cruise.
a spiffy yacht” that “provided all the comforts of home.” Measuring 50 feet 10 inches overall, Calcite offered sleeping accommodations for 10 guests, along with electric heat and lights, running water, and storage space beneath the afterdeck.
McCormick’s account tells of a dreamy journey through the Salish Sea in an era before desirable destinations were thronged with pleasure boats. Calcite’s guests and crew visited Victoria, Chemainus, Campbell River, Powell River, and Princess Louisa Inlet, exploring waterfalls and other scenic wonders while fishing and hunting along the way. This was a voyage of privilege, where the captains of industry dressed formally for meals served on linen tablecloths, prepared by Jim Nagioka, ship’s chef and steward. “He was never at a loss for something new in pastry or pudding,” McCormick wrote, “and was continually giving us the last word in delicious compounds from his three-by-five-foot galley.”
Their luxuries included a record player, used on several occasions while at
Archer was part of a fleet of vessels owned by the Tacoma and Roche Harbor Lime Co. This schooner carried barrels of lime to San Francisco, which was devastated by the 1906 earthquake.
anchor. “We … played the phonograph until midnight, entertaining the logging population ashore,” McCormick commented. ”With the horn turned shoreward the people were given a rare treat, as we had dozens of the finest records, including a number of the sacred hymns.” (John A. McCormick, Cruise of the Calcite, originally written in 1908). It is not clear what the loggers on shore thought of this concert.
After McMillin’s death, his son Paul sold Calcite, possibly to someone in Port Townsend. The vessel was converted to a tug and “doubled as a pleasure craft and working boat” (Richard Walker, “Iconic Boats of Roche Harbor’s Past,” Northwest Yachting, 2019). Calcite was a harbinger of the many affluent recreational boats that would later frequent Roche Harbor.
Just outside the marina there is a road (turn left when exiting the docks; go past the church) that leads to a forested trail. Follow the signs pointing toward one of San Juan Island’s most magical and bizarre sites: the McMillin Mausoleum, called the “Afterglow Vista.” It is a short walk from the marina but you’ll find yourself in a different world. First, the trail meanders through several headstones, some of which are enclosed in white picket fencing. Roche Harbor workers, some Japanese, are buried in this cemetery, and the number of child graves suggests the hardships of life in Roche Harbor during previous eras. Eventually the path leads to a large seven-pillared monument sitting on a small hill.
McMillin, who died in 1936, constructed this memorial as his final resting place. His membership in the Masonic Order is reflected in the many symbols etched into the structure. The two sets of stairs approaching the monument represent the steps within the Masonic Order. Arranged in groups of three, five, and seven, the
steps signify the three stages of life (youth, adult, elderly), the five orders of architecture (Tuscan, Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, Composite), the five senses, and the seven liberal arts and sciences (grammar, rhetoric, logic, arithmetic, geometry, music, astronomy). The columns are the same size as those in King Solomon’s temple. One is incomplete, reminding us that individuals die before their work is finished. Six chairs circle a limestone table in the center, serving as a crypt for the McMillin family’s ashes and signifying unity during life and death. McMillin’s plan to cap the rotunda with a dome proved too expensive, and it remains open to the elements, offering a view of the fir trees that tower around the structure.
For decades, tales of strange phenomena have surrounded this site. Mysterious blue orbs supposedly hover above the limestone table, and observers claim to hear disembodied voices, sometimes catching glimpses of shadows sitting in the chairs. Frank and I have visited the mausoleum many times, and eerily, we have never encountered anyone—living or spectral—on the trail or at the site. To me, it is a place of quiet reflection, where the natural and the mystical blend in a way unique to Roche Harbor.
The carillon bells from the church greeted me as I strolled back through the forest to the dock on my recent visit. The tune “Somewhere My Love,” seemed perfect, as I recalled the lyrics “you’ll come to me out of the long ago…” Today, Roche Harbor offers modern amenities and exceptional comforts, but here the “long ago” is never very far away.
Lisa Mighetto is a historian and sailor residing in Seattle. For more information, see the booklets Cruise of the Calcite, by John A. McCormick and Roche Harbor: A Saga in the San Juans, by Lynette Evans and George Burley.
Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: Ding-dong. Hark! Now I hear them,—ding-dong, bell. Ariel’s song in The Tempest, William Shakespeare
By Victor Brakauskas and Medeea Popescu
We started seriously considering cruising in the fall of 2023 and now, after almost a year on the boat, it’s entertaining to look back on our journey. At the time, we were looking for a long-term, sustainable lifestyle that meshed with our values—close to nature, frugal, intrinsically challenging, and self-sufficient.
At first, we considered homesteading in the far north (or as close to homesteading as you can get in the modern world) but we didn’t feel ready to put down roots in one place quite yet. Of the two of us, only Victor had sailing experience: sailing in the Great Lakes on family boats and serving as crew on an Atlantic crossing as a teenager. We both have sea kayaked, SCUBA dived, and surfed for some years together, however, and were very familiar with the powerful tides, currents, and waves of the northern Pacific.
When we were starting out, two books were instrumental in shaping our approach to and confidence in cruising: Maiden Voyage by Tania Aebi, and Swell by Liz Clark. In Maiden Voyage, Aebi sets off at the age of 18 and sails solo around the world without items like a life raft or GPS. She even managed to make it from New York through the Panama Canal before really figuring out her celestial navigation. Reading her story gave us the confidence that we’d be able to take on a larger sailing journey, and that some of the modern gear was optional.
In Swell, Liz Clark recounted her many years sailing solo from California to Panama and then on to the South Pacific. Rather than describing one big voyage, Clark delves into how she created a long-term cruising lifestyle that agreed with her personality. Her honesty about the difficulties she encountered along the way— most notably the large amounts of time that boat maintenance could take—served as a reality check for us. We also loved that she was into surfing, and was able to keep doing it while cruising. While we liked the idea of sailing as a means to travel and live in different out-of-the-way places, we certainly didn’t want to stop surfing, backpacking, hiking, and free diving.
With these stories helping bring a version of cruising life that might fit us into focus, our initial plan was to spend some time learning how to sail together on our own boat in protected waters before seeking out passagemaking experience. We’d previously lived in the San Francisco area and decided that would make a good first destination to aim for from western Washington, our home base at the time.
We started looking at boats in November 2023, planning to quit our jobs sometime in the spring and start cruising. We wanted a boat that was outfitted for extended cruising, not in need of major work, and affordable. Eight boats in the greater
Seattle area popped up on our list and appeared to fit those criteria. After viewing them in person, we narrowed it down to three options.
If we wanted a boat that was affordable for us, we knew we’d need to negotiate prices down and wanted to make sure not to be attached to any single boat. Our first choice ended up being a 1968 Camper-Nicholson 32 called Aeoli, which had been outfitted a decade ago by the previous owners for their two-year cruise. While much older than what we’d anticipated buying, we gauged it as needing the least up-front work. Aeoli was already equipped with things like a Monitor windvane and a solar setup. After some negotiation and a positive survey, we agreed on a price that was around half of what it was listed for. A few days after Thanksgiving, we brought our new home from Everett to Sequim during a beautiful early winter day on the water and moved onto it. Now we were committed!
We were still working remotely when we moved onto the boat, so we intentionally decided to put off all non-essential boat work until we quit our day jobs. A large part of our evolving cruising philosophy was that we wanted to do pretty much every maintenance and repair task ourselves. We didn't even sail the boat the remainder of that winter, but that didn't stop things from breaking.
The day after we moved onto the boat, our galley freshwater foot pump—the only running water on the boat—stopped working. After trying fruitlessly to gain access to the space where it was installed (under and around numerous hoses and fuel lines) we gave up and got used to using a jerry can for our water needs onboard. Doing without was a principle we were really trying to lean into, and this was good practice. Our months working were definitely a bit stressful as we’d turned our V-berth into a storage unit and were essentially living in the main cabin,
and the limitations of that space were especially evident on cold rainy days and during concurrent Zoom meetings.
We wanted some time to acquaint ourselves with the boat before we started cruising full-time and, looking at the calendar, we realized we’d probably want to start that sooner rather than later. We quit our jobs in March and after a couple weeks of break between corporate work and boat work, we dove right into the refit. We had lists after lists in three different notebooks.
We had a few big work items like replacing the standing rigging, but most of our work involved learning the systems on Aeoli. We had brought the boat up to Anacortes and were alternating dockside work and trips to West Marine with some cruises in the San Juan Islands. It was April and still quite cold at times onboard with no heat, but getting out sailing helped us see where our gaps in knowledge were and what tasks we could do without.
Aeoli came out of the water in the first week of May and we put in a hectic week of work at the boatyard. We worked with a crane operator and a rigger to help us complete the standing rigging job, and we were off! While we only made it to Cypress Island that week, it was wonderful to be really cruising after all the work leading up to it.
The San Juan and Gulf islands were a perfect place for us to get used to life on anchor. We enjoyed sailing and hiking the islands along with days focused on boat work that we hadn’t been able to finish at the slip. We also had a list of skills we wanted to practice before taking on passages down the coast, such as rigging a preventer and using our whisker pole for sailing downwind.
One of the biggest lessons we learned was how to prioritize truly necessary boat work from work that would just slow us down. It’s difficult to know what work or gear you need on your boat if you don’t have previous experience with the particular voyage you’re undertaking, but for us, we found it was most helpful to break the journey up into stages. For instance, we considered a ground tackle upgrade. The boat came with a 35 pound CQR anchor, 200 feet of rusty chain that we cut down to 100 feet after inspecting it, and 300 feet of nylon rode. Initially, we planned to update our chain to 200-300 feet, and upgrade our anchor to one of the newest and greatest that everyone told
us we needed. But night after night of secure anchoring on our CQR, including some very windy early spring days, eventually convinced us it wasn’t necessary for the first leg of our trip to San Francisco. We punted that decision down the line until a time when we had a better idea of where we were going next.
On the other hand, an example of an upgrade that we did actually do was changing out our tender. Aeoli had come with an inflatable dinghy and outboard, and it worked great for our first few weeks out on the water. However, we came into sailing from a sea kayaking background, and found that we kept missing the feeling of being closer to the water and having a vessel that rowed better. So, we ended up selling the dinghy and outboard, and replaced it with an inflatable tandem kayak that brought us much more joy.
This approach to cruising also allowed us to work on our projects as we went, rather than finishing everything before heading out. Our 1984 Monitor windvane needed a gear realignment, and the parts involved were all corroded together. We were able to fix it eventually, but we worked on it as we sailed out of the Strait of Juan de Fuca and up the west side of Vancouver Island while experimenting with other low-tech self steering techniques— another opportunity to practice “doing without.” If we’d added that fix to the list of projects we had before leaving, we would’ve missed out on some very lovely and uncrowded spring sailing experiences in the San Juan Islands, and stressed ourselves out quite a bit more. We were also ready to break up our sail down the coast into smaller hops if the windvane ended up not being repairable and we had to hand-steer instead. Embracing this flexibility de-coupled our journey from the need to fix things, which was much easier and more enjoyable for us mentally.
Our first passage was from Bamfield, British Columbia to Newport, Oregon in a short-period 9-foot swell left over from an atmospheric river in early June and conditions the NWS described as “June-uary.” Unsurprisingly, it was a wholly different experience from our previous cruising in protected waters, and certainly isn’t a passage for everyone. Yet, we were eager to give it a go.
The night watches were brutally cold and wet without heat on the boat. Aeoli rocked and rolled like crazy in those steep waves. Adding a layer of complexity were so many fishing boats milling around, changing course seemingly at random in the middle of the night as we struggled to adjust our sails and avoid collisions.
We spent night watches swathed in thermals and jackets underneath kayaking drysuits, topped off with an old oversized snowboarding jacket that we traded off wearing. The person off watch huddled and sometimes even managed to doze in the freezing cabin down below under a damp zero-degree sleeping bag. By the end of that passage, we were hallucinating lights and noises, famished and probably dehydrated from seasickness, and desperately craving a safe marina where we could plug in our electric heater. But we’d also learned a great deal about how to sail safely and effectively in big swells and big wind, how to handle night watches with a crew of two, and how to transit a challenging bar. We figured it couldn’t get much harder, so we pressed on!
With the exception of some sporty conditions around Cape Blanco, the subsequent passages felt less dramatic as our experience grew, and we learned to pick some milder weather windows. We ended up stopping in Crescent City and Drakes Bay as well, and hugely enjoyed each of our stops. All of them had surf breaks within walking distance from our marina or anchorage, and we took advantage of the swell that had been missing from our previous protected water cruising.
Crescent City was especially fun for us due to their fantastic public transit system, which allowed us to spend almost a full week hiking and backpacking the Redwoods National and State Parks. The selfie we took crossing under the Golden Gate bridge shows us smiling like lunatics, overjoyed to have covered so much distance in our little boat.
We’re now in the Channel Islands sailing south from San Francisco after almost three months of marina time for Aeoli and a good break from the boat for us. We were lucky enough to enjoy some wonderful backpacking weather this summer, and are refreshed and ready for the rest of our sail south down to Baja. After that, who knows! We’re just glad we took this big jump into cruising.
Victor and Medeea met in the San Francisco Bay Area and moved up to Washington to chase more wilderness and cheaper rents. Victor is originally from Chicago and Medeea was born in Romania, but grew up on the East Coast.
After sailing down the coast, the Golden Gate Bridge was a welcome sight.
by Tamara Miller
The exhilaration of beating through a wet and windy early spring storm was surprisingly fun. Then, the taste of a warm bowl of soup was made more delicious because we’d just set the anchor, shed our foulies, and turned on the heat in the salon below. And the cozy feeling of optimism when we’d bundle up in the cockpit with a hot cup of coffee on a calm, crisp morning made it feel that much more memorable. There’s something special waiting out there for those who venture onto the waters of the Pacific Northwest this time of year.
South Puget Sound is a great area for cruisers in any season, but doesn’t have the draw of north Puget Sound and the San Juans Islands. That’s really too bad. It’s home to scores of anchorages and many of Washington’s marine state parks. It also plays host to an abundance of wildlife, from migratory
birds to seals to pods of Bigg’s killer whales.
In the offseason, when whatever crowds summer brought south are gone, the wind is more reliable, and the shorter days and cooler temps make nearby destinations that are often overlooked in the high season even more attractive. The chilly months are our favorite time to explore the myriad of islands, harbors, and coves south of Tacoma.
Most stops have easy access to shore so you can stretch your legs with a beach walk or a hike. And once south of Tacoma, there’s little shipping traffic, save for the occasional barge hauling logs to and from Olympia.
Best of all, once you’ve made it south of the Tacoma Narrows, most gunkholes are a pleasant sail (or motor) of only an hour or two from each other, making it easy to put together a cruising itinerary that can fit into a long weekend, a holiday break, or anytime weather windows are limited.
A quick note to newcomers venturing here: There are very few shops and restaurants within walking distance of cruising stops once south of the Narrows. That can be a plus or minus, depending on your outlook. Just be sure to provision ahead of time if you are coming from the north. Or, plan to include a stop in Olympia, where there are plenty of services within walking distance of the waterfront.
Another tip: If your boat is under 45 feet, consider picking up a Washington State Park annual moorage permit before heading south. While anchoring is possible in most places, all of the parks here have mooring buoys.
When we untie the dock lines for an offseason cruise, our itinerary planning begins with some of our favorite South Puget Sound cruising spots, listed from north to south. Maybe we’ll see you out there this winter!
Located between Vashon and Maury Islands, Quartermaster Harbor technically is north of Tacoma. But it’s a great stop for boaters coming from the north who are looking for a peaceful anchorage with easy entry and great holding before sailing south of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge.
We love to visit this harbor especially in the fall and spring. Come autumn, the foliage surrounding the anchorage turns a beautiful yellow and orange. And when storms roll through in the late winter and early spring, we can always find refuge here. While winds from the north sometimes sneak over the spit formed between the two islands, we can always find a protected spot tucked behind the Vashon hills.
We enjoy watching the rowers navigate the buoys in the nearby rowing course, and dropping our kayaks so we can paddle, too. When it’s time to get off the boat, nearby Dockton Park has facilities, a playground, and hiking trails.
On the east side of Key Peninsula is Penrose Point State Park, a 230-acre park with 2.5 miles of hiking and biking trails, picnic tables, and lots of shoreline to explore at low tide.
We usually tie up at one of the mooring buoys at the south side of the point. On a clear day, you’ll get a photo-worthy view
of Mt. Rainier. On any day, you’ll find access to the trailhead hidden in the trees. A quick note: Portions of the trail are closed for restoration as of this writing.
Kayak or take your dinghy toward the point as the tide goes out, and you’ll find crabs scuttling across the bottom and buried clams spitting from the beach. We once found a sunflower star here, too.
Penrose is one of the bigger parks in the South Sound, and even during the busy summer, you can find some solitude. This time of year, though, you might get the whole place to yourself.
Located between McNeil and Anderson islands, Eagle Island is a good stopover for boaters heading to points farther south and west. It has a tiny shoreline that is only accessible during low tide and no trails, but that’s OK with us. We always stop here for one reason only: to watch seals!
Eagle Island is a popular haul out for harbor seals, and a prime spot during seal pupping season. We incidentally visited for the first time during the pupping season and found the shoreline completely covered with the mottled gray, white, and black chunksters.
As evening approached, we sat in the cockpit and watched the seals splash, play, and fish. At night, we could hear them growling like zombies at each other. There are only two mooring buoys here, so coming in the offseason means you’re more likely to find one available.
Just off the east coastline of Harstine Island in Carr Inlet is McMicken Island.
It’s a 200-acre, heavily wooded island with a 1-mile hiking trail, a picnic bench, and two vault toilets. There is no camping on the island and no services at all. A small portion of the island’s southside is still privately owned. Low tide reveals a tombolo that extends between McMicken and Harstine, allowing people to walk between the islands.
We love to drop the kayaks to explore the shallow water near the tombolo.
There are several well-placed mooring buoys, but if they are taken, there’s good anchoring on the north side of the island.
We found refuge here recently when winds from the south against an ebbing tide made for an uncomfortable sail south through Carr Inlet on our way back toward Olympia. In the lee of McMicken’s north side we found calm, protected waters in those conditions.
This lovely spot, on the northwest side of Harstine Island, has a private marina on one side, and the state marine park on the other side. It has one mile of hiking trails, a large campground with several campsites and picnic tables, a dock with electrical hookups, and a pumpout. During the summer, the fuel dock and the store nearby on shore are open.
We always opt for a buoy close to the entrance as it gets quite
Golden hour in the protected waters
shallow the farther you go into the cove.
We love Jarrell Cove for its protected waters, which make kayaking, stand-up paddleboarding, and dinghy sailing a lot of fun. There are several little nooks and crannies around the cove to explore and because it gets so shallow, you can see the bottom easily in many places.
Jarrell Cove also offers a lot of places to explore on land. It has an amphitheater, horseshoe pits, and an area to play badminton (you will need to bring your own gear).
We recently enjoyed a fantastic sail from McMicken Island to Jarrell Cove, which is located on the other side of the northern tip of Harstine Island. We lucked out, too, when we rounded that corner and came across a pod of orcas.
Hope Island State Marine Park is located just south and west of Squaxin Island and at the entrance of Totten Inlet. Accessible only by boat, it is popular with kayakers who paddle in from Olympia, Harstine Island, and other communities in the South Sound.
The entire island is a state park, and has 2 miles of hiking
Hope Island State Park in the early fall.
trails among old growth trees, boasts multiple campgrounds, an interpretive trail, and an apple orchard that bears enough fruit to attract the deer and raccoons we often see when we visit.
Because of the wildlife that call Hope Island home, dogs are not allowed on the island.
We always grab a mooring buoy when we come here, though anchoring also is possible. The currents that rush in and out of nearby Totten Inlet can make kayaking and rowing a bit of a workout at times.
But Hope Island also gives us a mix of our favorite things about cruising: Time to play on water or explore on land; access to wildlife and gorgeous scenery; and opportunities to get away from the frenetic, attention-sucking energy of modern life.
The last time we visited Hope Island, I met a kayaker from Seattle who was visiting the island for the first time. "This place is amazing," he told me. "I wonder why there aren’t more people down here," he asked. I wonder that sometimes, too.
Tamara Miller and her husband, Charlie, live, work, and cruise the Salish Sea on their Nauticat 39, Polaris. Miller writes about her family’s experiences on and off the water at www.fouleduplife.com
QUARTERMASTER/DOCKTON PARK
• Mooring buoys
• Dinghy dock
• Restrooms
• Playground
• Hiking trails
EAGLE ISLAND
• Mooring buoys
• Wildlife viewing
PENROSE POINT STATE PARK
• Showers
• Recycling and trash dropoff
• Restrooms
• Mooring buoys
MCMICKEN ISLAND STATE MARINE PARK
• Restrooms
• Mooring buoys
• Hiking trail
JARRELL COVE STATE PARK
• Restrooms
• Showers
• Recycling and Trash
• Dock for boat and dinghies
• Mooring buoys
• Pumpout
HOPE ISLAND STATE MARINE PARK
• Restrooms
• Mooring buoys
by Joe Cline
(verse)
Oh, the weather outside’s delightful And my boss is “ugh” so spiteful, And since the boat’s rigged to go, Let it blow, let it blow, let it blow.
(verse)
The barometer’s quickly dropping, And I know I should be shopping. But my sailing pals said, “YOLO!” Let it blow, let it blow, let it blow.
(bridge)
When we finally cast off lines, How the waves have built up from the storm, But the December sun still shines, Breeze-on runs are our artform.
(verse)
I’m silencing phone and email, As we fin’lly set the mainsail, The boss doesn’t have to know, Let it blow, let it blow, let it blow.
(verse)
Upwind we are roughly bashing. With each swell, the bow is crashing, Say, what’s up with that huge boat? Let it blow, let it blow, let it blow.
(bridge)
It’s a tall ship from days of yore With her deck loaded heavy with trees. Why are they so dang close to shore? They’ve lost control in the big breeze!
(verse)
Well, they’re def’nitely in some trouble, Let’s go help, before she’s rubble! Those firs should be all aglow, Let it blow, let it blow, let it blow.
(verse)
Blast over and toss a tow rope. “We’re here, no need to lose hope.” Set the spinnaker now, heave-ho! Let it blow, let it blow, let it blow.
(bridge)
Good thing we all must go downwind, Kite is up, and we’re starting to move. Must be brave, don’t look so frightened, Old St. Nick surely approves!
(verse)
The wind shows no signs of fading, Our sail-tug o’er waves cascading, In the puffs, am I seeing snow?
Let it blow, let it blow, let it blow.
(verse)
This is not the sail we envisioned, But it’s not a tough decision: To a Christmas ship, give a tow. Let it blow, let it blow, let it blow.
(bridge)
Now we’re getting real close to port, Children line up alongside the pier. Then the ship glides in smooth athwart, Distributing trees and good cheer!
(verse)
Anytime you go winter sailing It’s adventure, never failing. So wear your lifejacket, yo!
Let it blow, let it blow, let it blow.
(verse)
Safely home, we pass out the toddies
To warm our frozen bodies.
Santa's helpers shout Ho-Ho-Ho! Let it blow, let it blow, let it blow.
Note: This story is obviously fictional, and we love our bosses. Happy holidays from the 48° North crew!
By the end of October, a Puget Sound sailor’s senses begin to detect it. That chilly breeze nipping at our nose. The autumnal color palatte on the hill behind Shilshole deepening from yellows and reds, to maroons, oranges, and browns. And whether it’s the moisture in the air or the wafts of freshly baked rolls for the grand awards ceremony dinner at elegant Seattle Yacht Club—it smells like Grand Prix. By the end of the weekend, you can add the taste of salt spray and the aroma of... “well-used” foulies... to the sensory kaleidoscope.
This year’s long-weekend test of sailing mettle provided what Grand Prix always does: a mix of distance and buoy racing in a potpourri of PNW racing conditions that only the shoulder seasons provide. For the 44 participating boats across six classes—notably with all fleets racing under the ORC handicap if they weren’t one-design—it was all you’d hope for and then some. The racing was tight around the fleet, but it’s hard to say that any fleet was more exciting than the largest one on the water, which was one-design to boot. Here’s the rundown on the action from the class winner in the 12-boat J/105 fleet, skipper Jeffrey Pace of Liftoff
The busy starting line in the 12-boat J/105 fleet at Grand Prix.
A balance of focus and smiles—part of the winning recipe for the Liftoff crew.
We had 12 J/105s out for the Seattle Yacht Club (SYC) Grand Prix with a very diverse set of races and conditions, ranging from light sub-5 knots to strong 25-plus knots.
The regatta kicked off on a sunny Friday with light northerly winds, and the J/105 fleet took off on a two-lap moderatelength buoy race, stretching between Shilshole Bay and roughly north of Carkeek Park. Moose Unknown took an early lead in the first lap, followed by Insubordination, Peer Gynt, Kinetic, and Liftoff. Liftoff gained ground on the second beat, thanks in part to favorable currents near the shore. The wind clocked rapidly to the east as boats made their way to the windward mark. Moose rounded well ahead, followed by Insubordination, Kinetic, and Liftoff. On the second downwind leg, the boats to the west benefited from more consistent wind further from land obstruction. Moose secured a commanding first-place finish, followed by Liftoff, Insubordination, Kinetic, and Peer Gynt.
On Saturday, the conditions cooperated to allow for the distance race for the regatta. The J/105 course took the fleet from Shilshole to Blakely Rock, Duwamish Head, and a temporary mark 3 nautical miles north of Meadow Point. The wind blew from the south to southeast with good pressure in the teens, and fortunately no wind holes in Elliott Bay! Boats hitting the pin on port tack made out well, while the rest of the fleet quickly tacked over to begin the long upwind leg to Blakely Rock. Moose and Jaded led the fleet, followed closely by Panic, Kinetic, Peer Gynt, and Liftoff Panic gained ground and overtook Liftoff before reaching the rock. Insubordination went for a keel-polishing tight rounding on the south side of the rock, snagging some positions as a result.
On the reach to Duwamish Head, Jaded and Moose battled for the lead, followed by Kinetic and Liftoff. Insubordination and Peer Gynt took a lane to the north. After rounding Duwamish Head, some boats jibed west but ran out of wind, forcing them to jibe back. The fleet then made a run for Magnolia and played the favorable conditions near shore. Leaving West Point, the drag race resumed with Moose ahead, followed by Panic and Liftoff Jaded was in the mix and slightly leeward. Kinetic and others took a wise windward lane and made up some ground as the fleet converged on the weather mark. Moose drove ahead
J/105 Jaded cruises downwind in beautiful sun and fading breeze.
and rounded with a solid lead. Jaded, Insub, and Liftoff went in overlapped, perhaps Kinetic too. The final beat was a light one as the wind had dropped to 6 or 7 knots. Moose took first, Insub locked in second, staying to the west, and Panic took third. Kinetic, Liftoff, and Peer Gynt had a photo finish with Liftoff clipping fourth, 2 seconds ahead of Kinetic, and Peer Gynt just behind at the pin.
Sunday began with boats waiting ashore while SYC evaluated winds blowing into the 30 knot range. After a delay, the fleet headed out for a blustery final buoy race. Winds blew strong from the south; we observed gusts to the upper 20s and lulls in the high teens. Liftoff, Panic, and at least one other boat reefed their mains. The race kicked off with Peer Gynt near pin end, followed by Liftoff and Moose Liftoff and Moose tacked to port, while Peer Gynt took the inside lane. As the fleet converged, Peer Gynt knifed in for first at the windward rounding, followed closely by Liftoff and Moose. Peer Gynt slipped ahead and Liftoff followed as we ran towards Golden Gardens. Insub slipped by to the west as Liftoff dealt with an hour-glassed spinnaker. Peer Gynt rounded ahead, with Insub and Liftoff closely behind. On the final beat, Liftoff was able to claw their way past the leaders and take first for the day. Peer Gynt took second, and Jaded took third in a tight battle with Kinetic right at the boat, followed by Insub, Moose, and Panic
So, in spite of Moose Unknown’s impressive pair of bullets to start the regatta, Liftoff’s final race win put them a point ahead and gave them the top spot on a hard-fought, fun-spirited J/105 podium. Around the fleet, top performances went to John Buchan’s TP 52 Glory in Class 1, Jonathan McKee’s Riptide 44 Dark Star in Class 2, John Hoag’s 1D35 Shrek in Class 3, Michael Fagundo’s Farr 30 Bat Out Of Hell in Class 5, and Gerry Gilbert’s Veloce topping the one-design J/80 fleet.
As always, SYC put on a top-notch event, capped by their wrap up dinner and awards ceremony that truly stands apart from other regatta celebrations in the region. Congrats to all the sailors for sailing in what is sure to be remembered as another fabulous running in the Grand Prix tradition.
Full results at: www.seattleyachtclub.org Photos courtesy of Seattle Yacht Club.
by Stephanie Campbell
The 2024 edition of the annual Round the County (RTC) race, hosted by Orcas Island Yacht Club and San Juan Island Sailing Society, was eagerly anticipated as usual. The race always fills up with 120 boats in short order, with the majority signing on in the first few hours after registration opens in September. Skippers and crew look forward to the challenging conditions in beautiful scenery, with an overnight stay in Roche Harbor. This race continuously tests even the most seasoned sailors, but this year I noticed that there were a lot of kids on the course, too. Maybe
more than ever before. Some of my friends brought their kids for the first time, including me.
With some conflicting wind forecasts and challenging tidal predictions for the Saturday start, there were a lot of discussions about how we were going to manage getting out of Rosario Strait while fighting almost three knots of current. At 6:00 a.m., the parade started out of Anacortes, with a string of red, green, and white lights making the channel glow until the sun rose. There was not a breath of wind to be seen. As 7:45 rolled around and the radio waves were open for boats to check-in, PRO Charley Rathkopf and volunteers kept eager racers in check as we stepped all over each other calling
out our boat names and sail numbers. At 8:25, we went promptly into AP, with not enough wind to get the first fleet moving across the line. Aboard my Santa Cruz 27, Wild Rumpus, we ran the line so many times I couldn’t even keep track. Which side had less current? More wind? Better angle for the beeline to the beach for eddies? We couldn’t decide.
Eventually the outboard got tired of the low idle and we put up the drifter. Set backwards from the line at 2 knots or more, we swapped out for a kite. Charley called for boats to give it a try, to see if racing was possible. At least an hour after setting the kite, we made it across the line, if only for a moment! Seizing the opportunity, they tried to get off a start. However, only minutes later a decision was made. It was mathematically impossible for us to make it after a three hour delay. With racing called off, the second parade of the day was motoring through Peavine Pass and on to Roche Harbor for the evening. How civilized! A first in the history of the race, it was very kind of the committee to not make us suffer sailing backward in the rain.
On Saturday evening, the tent party on the dock was packed. Crews flocked to any dry place they could find, and eventually made their way to cabins and rooms at the hotel for a hot meal and a good sleep. My son Dylan did the race with me this year for the first time, and I had to apologize that I didn’t initiate him into the Roche Harbor spooky Mausoleum tradition. Our cabin was down the road
and it seemed like too chilly a night for it. My heart was happy to see that Morgan Larson and the hardy crew of Bruzer made it up there.
Sunday arrived with a similar lack of wind, but a much better forecast and tide prediction. With coffee in hand and renewed determination, we set off for the starting line. Sailors were equally eager to check in on the radio and check out the starting line—120 boats in a small space bordered by grounding hazards and kelp beds is good mayhem! With a line set square to the course, you could make a case for starting anywhere on the line for more breeze or closer to the next point, but I believe that the pin end of the line toward Battleship Island was the right call. We started toward that end and joined the crowd of mostly J/105s on starboard, pointing the boat at a decent angle mostly toward Turn Point on Stuart Island, the first corner of the day’s course.
The Moore 24s More Uffda and Bruzer jibed over to port and took the outside route. Dan Kaseler was launched forward on the beautiful Jespersen 30, Myrrh, and the rest of us just battled it out taking turns with who had the breeze at which moment. Well, the outside paid off. And sometimes the inside paid off. The big boats rolled past, and then the wind did a 180 and everything changed. Swapping to big genoas, it wasn’t long before we had all the crew on the rail as we pressed toward the Canadian shore of Saturna Island in a 5 knot northerly. This was not in the forecast, but we were
willing to take it. The current was with us and the breeze picked up. With tide rips and unexpected holes, many boats swapped position through this transition zone. Canada was definitely golden. Until it wasn’t! More and more boats were leaving the shore, but why? Maybe it was the 40 degree shift with better pressure at Patos Island, the halfway mark of the race. From Patos, you had to decide if you favored the shore or the Strait.
On Rumpus, we swapped down to the jib and mostly favored the shores of Sucia and Matia on our way around the north shore of Orcas Island. The pretty schooner Sir Isaac was easy to spot moving along nicely on the shore side. But going out also made sense with the
tide in our favor. Really both options worked, and there didn’t seem to be a lot of passing lanes in this stretch of the race. When we arrived at the final corner of Orcas it looked light, and the Peapod Rocks looked deadly calm. The big genoa went back up, and we took the late-tack long-route like many others. Looking up toward the finish, boats looked pretty heeled over, but what did we know? Turns out, the breeze came on strong for the finish. Blast reaching into the finish with too much sail area, we somehow held it together. Round the County 2024 had a bit of everything and all the adventure we needed.
On board the Santa Cruz 27 The Banana Stand, Adam Yuret sailed RTC with his eldest son, Ben, for the first time this year. Ben and The Banana Stand each joined the Yuret family in 2011, and it was time for him to join the fray. Thirteen-yearold Ben has been actively racing in the Corinthian Yacht Club junior program for six years. This year after a spicy doublehanded Race to the Straits with Dad, Ben set his sights on completing his first Round the County race. Eager to do every job possible, he trimmed the kite off the start on day two and drove in increasingly spicy conditions upwind across the top of Orcas Island for over five hours, including a near collision, and a final approach to the Lydia Shoal finish line at dusk with winds gusting near gale force. Being the lightest crewperson, Ben also worked the foredeck, swimming in sails and waves, becoming weightless as the boat pitched in the building seas and disappearing in the whitewater that swept across the deck. Rumor has it that he can’t wait to do it all again!
Aboard the Hobie 33, Pip, there were also boys at the helm and all over the place, including swinging from the halyards and at the top of the mast in the Saturday boat parade to Roche Harbor. Pip raced with 5 adults and two 13 year old boys, Sean Kelly and Teo Gaffney, who also did the race last year. Both boys are junior sailors with the Parks Middle School sailing program at the illustrious Port Madison Yacht Club on Bainbridge Island. Pip almost alway sails with kids on board because, ”why wouldn’t you give the future the opportunity now?” They bring a positive attitude, dinghy
skills, and a fresh set of eyes and ears. The boys enjoyed a shakedown sail and provisioning on Friday, joining the “big kids” for dinner at the Brown Lantern in Anacortes. Sunday saw Teo drive the entire course, with a max speed of 10.8 knots reaching into the finish. Sean was on sail trim and foredeck, and squirrel for takedowns. Both boys were positive all day, were great company and teammates, and certainly will be back for many years to come. They both went home with a list of 80/90s movies that the crew all agreed were “must watch.” I’m pretty confident many of them haven’t aged well! However, on Saturday night in Cabin 25 at Roche, they watched The Goonies and certainly loved that one!
I have such hope for the future of sailboat racing in the Pacific Northwest when I think about how many boats were multigenerational this year, and love to see (and be) a family sailing together. Myrrh took the top spot in Division 5 and second overall, and the Myrrh crew included Dan’s son Cascade. Anacortes-
based boats Black Arrow, Ørn, Sonrisa, and Peggy Sue all raced with at least two generations on board. I’m willing to bet that there were even more families on the course that I don’t know. As the kids ran crazy up the dock in Roche Harbor, I
thought, “Just wait, they’ll be beating us to the finish in no time!” As it should be. Thank you Orcas Island Yacht Club and San Juan Island Sailing Society volunteers for another great year of Round the County. See you next year!
Full results at https://roundthecounty.com/results/results.php
by Erik Carlson
The most unique sailboat race on Puget Sound—the LeMans Race sponsored by the Gig Harbor Yacht Club (GHYC)—was held again on Saturday November 16, 2024. The event has been held annually for more than 50 years. The idea for this race is the result of a dinner table brainstorm between local boat builder, Ed Hoppen, and GHYC founding member and past commodore, Dick Carlson. So, why do sailors love this race? What draws the crowds of fans lining the shoreline? The answer is part of what makes this race so unusual: an anchor.
All participating boats are anchored within Gig Harbor prior to the start. All sails are down, and the crew is below deck. As soon as the starting horn sounds, every member of the crew has a task. Usually, a pair runs forward and pulls the anchor while another group raises the sails. Skippers and crew are challenged to locate the wind and drive the boat from a stationary position—meaning no steerage— attempting to gain momentum and control and get out of Gig Harbor. The course brings racers from Gig Harbor to a mark in Colvos Passage before they return to the harbor. Boats have to manage the narrow mouth of the harbor and the tricky currents under sail, twice!
This year, with little to no wind during the skipper’s meeting, and forecasts for light winds, the decision for the race committee was easy. The 9.2 mile “short course” to Camp Sealth was the choice, rather than the longer course to Olalla.
The stage was set. Two start groups were positioned and anchored in their respective starting area “‘boxes.” The first start was 10 boats, ranging from 26 to 33 feet, with PHRF ratings from 93 to 195. Starting second (somewhat unusually 10 minutes after the first start) were a dozen faster “big” boats, with PHRF numbers 15 to 86.
At the start, you often see boats fending off, sails not rising smoothly or winds (and lack thereof) causing confusion. For the most part, both starts in 2024 were smooth and 17 of the 22 boats completed the course in roughly 4 hours.
Line honors went to John Leitzinger’s Kahuna, an Aerodyne 38. Not only did they beat the other boats in Start 2 but they
says boat racing isn't a great spectator sport? This one is!
made up 10 minutes on the Start 1 boats. Zulu Tango, a Farr 395 was second across, followed by Sidewinder, an Olson 30. Corrected times gave a different look to the results. And while some might be surprised, the resident Gig Harbor racers were not shocked in any way. In fact, it was very much anticipated. The oldest boat in the fleet, T-Bird #9, Fandango, sailed by the Storkman crew (Jaime and Joan, with their grown children Ryan and Katie) took first overall. This was no surprise because local knowledge of both wind and currents within the harbor is key. Fandango was first to clear the mouth of the harbor, showing that a good start is at least as important in the LeMans race as in conventional races, probably much more. The race’s history tells us that boats out early do well, which is part of what makes the bustle of activity on and between the boats in those first minutes of the race so exciting for participants and so riveting for fans looking on from shore.
Another great story from Saturday involved the owners of Jammin, a 26-foot J/80. They gave their boat to a group of kids from Gig Harbor Junior Sailing. And the junior group did well—Jammin crossed the line in tenth position and corrected to ninth overall. Jammin was sailed by Bailey Rainbolt (11th grade, five years sailing), Tru Jackson (10th grade, three years sailing), Cameron Siegert (10th grade, two years sailing), and Charlie Yando (9th grade, four years sailing). All are students at Gig Harbor High School. Jammin was skippered by coach Dayne Hall, who is a former Gig Harbor Junior Sailing racer himself. Kudos to the Jammin owners who saw the benefit to getting young racers involved. And thanks to that same group for taking on race committee duties as well.
In the end and after handicaps were applied, the podium for the first start went to Fandango, followed by J/29 Slick and J/80 Veloce. In the second start, it was the Tripp 33, Short Circuit, in the top spot and taking second overall nearly 7 minutes behind Fandango; and then Kahuna in second and Zulu Tango. Another terrific LeMans race is in the books, the November tradition like no other didn’t afford much breeze, but the starting protocol always offers more lively fun than any other version of a light air sailboat race start. Sailors and spectators alike had a ball, as always!
History's suggestion was reinforced in 2024—getting out of the harbor early bodes well for the final results.
COMING SOON 2009 LEOPARD 38 CATAMARAN
Sail Magazine called it “one of the best-executed sub-40-foot cruising catamarans” This 4-cabin version with 2 heads/showers + Wallas heater, is in charter with AYC.com. Ideally located to explore the San Juans and earn substantial revenue. Incl. 11’ dinghy/9HP Honda. Text to schedule viewing in December, photo website URL. Tech specs: https://sailboatdata.com/sailboat/leopard-38/ » Contact Pierre Geurts • (425) 219-2924 • pierre.m.geurts@gmail.com • $219,000
$34,000
ALBIN 25 TRAWLER 1973/2024
Boat totally restored: Westerbeke 38b4 low hours. New prop shaft with dripless seal and prop exhaust. New barrier coat, through holes and bottom paint. New gelcoat up to deck. New paint on deck and cabins. All wood refinished. Diesel heater and ac panel,battery charger,new electronics,auto-pilot,chart plotter,radio. New canvas. Maxwell windless, bow thruster.
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$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.
» Contact Bob • stefroche916@gmail.com • $49,900
$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
$16,000
GAFF RIGGED CUTTER S/V TULLAMORE BUILT IN PORT TOWNSEND (1997)
One of three William Adkin designed cutters built at the Northwest School of Wooden Boat Building in Port Townsend during the late 1990s. She is 25’5” LOA, with a 7’10” beam and 3’10” draft. She carries four sails and easily sleeps three. She is powered by a 15hp Yanmar diesel with Raymarine ST2000+ auto pilot and Garmen Echomap DVwith GPS and depth indicator. Replacement cost in 6/20 was estimated at $150,000. For more information, request the 6/20 Survey. » Contact Ross Mayberry • (206) 735-9592 • rossmayberry13@gmail.com • $16,000
$145,000
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; water-maker; ESPAR hydronic heat; RADAR; AIS; power winch for main, Etc. Does it all with ease: single handed, with crew or family. » Contact Dave Stromquist for full listing details • (360) 606-9043 • dstromquist@comcast.net
• $145,000
$72,900
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' ULTRA 1984
Nonsuch 30’ Ultra has Hinterhoeller’s highest quality construction, superior handling and easy sailing with a free standing mast forward, running rigging controlled from the cockpit. 12’ beam with 6’3” headroom. New sail and running rigging, 1100 hours Westerbeke 27HP Many upgrades. » Contact Peter Millington • (808) 557-0423 • millingtonpeter@yahoo.com • $40,000
by Robert Perry and built by TaShing. Cabin and topside painted with Awlgrip in 2015, new mast and standing rigging 2017. Repowered in 2001 with a Yanmar 3GM30 diesel. Dawn Treader has been well loved and well maintained, located on a private dock in Hansville, Washington. Call or text for more info. » Contact Bruce Cosacchi • (206) 819-7079 • pbc200606@yahoo.com • SOLD
No
When you are ready, give us a call. Professional service since 1967. CappyTom@aol.com • (206) 390- 1596
American Sailing Association courses Basic Keelboat 101 through Advanced Coastal 206 Based in Beautiful Anacortes, WA
sailtime.com/location/anacortes/sailing-school info@seattleyachts.com 206-351-8661 For even more photos and listings check out 48north.com/classifieds
70’ SANTA CRUZ 70 ’85
$250,000
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“CHARDONNAY III” Turnkey
Subchapter T vessel ready for business. Great opportunity for a swift boat with charter slip and management available
54’ ROBERTS 54 ’79
$225,000
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“SPIRIT” Rugged bluewater vessel designed with comfort and safety in mind. Nicely upgraded.Coast Guard Certified for up to 42 passengers.
45’ BENETEAU OCEANIS 45 ’14
$285,000
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“ADELIE” Bright, airy interior with all the bells and whistles. Solar panels and upgraded electrical system. Three private staterooms.
49’ OCEAN CATAMARAN 49 ’00 $199,000 “LICKETYSPLIT”Fast-cruising catamaran recently updated with new sails and electronics. Needs finishing touches.
41’ SEN KOH KING’S LEGEND 41 ’82 $60,000 “THEHAMMERII”Well-built blue water cruiser. Full inside helm station. Ideal for long-range cruising. Low-profile pilothouse. Flush deck.
38’ CATALINA 380 ’97 $84,500 “FREUDIAN SLOOP” Well laid out, spaciously designed coastal cruiser for daysailing, coastal cruising and living aboard.
38’ CATALINA 380 ’00 $89,000 “BEYONDTHESEA”Meticulously cared for. The gelcoat shines. Inside is impeccable. Great deck layout for ease of sailing.
37’ ALLIAURA PRIVILEGE 37 ’00 $195,000 “GALILEO” Lightly used cruising cat. Updated with new standing rigging and much more. Santa Cruz slip possible.
Designed by Tom Wylie and built by Schooner Creek Boat Works in Portland, Oregon, Rage is a legendary West Coast sled. In 1994, Rage broke the Pacific Cup record set by Bill Lee’s Merlin by four hours. In 1996, she again set a new course record of 7 days, 22 hours and 1 minute. Rage has proven herself to be the ultimate ULDB with blistering speed potential, simple sail handling systems and strong construction. At the same time, she offers comfortable, beautifully finished accommodations and is easily sailed by a shorthanded crew. The proof is in the pudding as Rage has outperformed newer and far more complex boats. While she truly shines racing offshore, Rage was designed with shorthanded cruising in mind, an objective she has met. She requires no conversion from “race” to “cruise” mode in her current configuration. Fresh off last summer’s Pacific Cup race, she is reluctantly for sale as her owner has a larger Wylie designed sled under construction by Steve Rander, the builder and original owner of Rage. Sometimes, “if you know, you know” and such is the case with Rage.
– Ryan Helling
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