October 2022 48° North Digital

Photo

“What makes a good sea story?” I asked the group of headliners at the Port Townsend Wooden Boat Festival in September while moderating a panel discussion. One of the world’s foremost sailing storytellers, Lin Pardey, offered the brilliantly concise opinion: “It isn’t a story unless something changes because of what happened.”

Tides and currents, wind conditions, sea state, technology, or destination desires — what doesn’t change in the maritime environment? And what boater doesn’t know the ways these constant movements and evolutions affect our experiences afloat? These changes, alone, can fuel a lifetime of on-the-water passion and intrigue. Any sailor can agree, however, that not every day on the water makes a great story.

There’s a deeper change to which Lin was referring. It’s something we all long for, consciously or unconsciously, in our boat lives; and many of us are fortunate enough to know it intimately. It’s far more lasting than a shift in the wind — as much transformation as it is change — and leaves us different, almost always better.

Maybe you can recall a sea story that left you unambiguously aware that things were never going to be quite the same for you. Perhaps it was a frightening brush with disaster, a close encounter with some incredible marine wildlife, or a memorably hefty dose of Type-II fun. Those are the stories often loudly regaled over a beer; and they’re usually captivating tales that might elicit a “No way!” from the listener.

On the other hand, the change could be a bit more subtle. Some of my favorite sea stories center on learning and self-discovery. Not everyone has experienced the moment when they stop thinking, “Maybe I can’t do this,” and instead start believing, “I know I can do this.” For those who possess such self-assurance on the water, many may not remember the exact time when that switch flipped from doubt to confidence. But for any that do, it’s an example of the best kind of change.

Of course, all this leaves me reflecting on the stories I get to share in 48° North and in this issue particularly. A great story of personal transformation appears on page 24 — the feature “Sea Change.” After the difficult loss of her partner, the author decides to keep sailing their boat… but now as the skipper. The transition wasn’t easy and would have been even more challenging without the thoughtful guidance she enlisted. In the end, though, what freedom she finds in this change!

Sometimes the change in our sea stories is only tangentially about sailing, but it can be just as meaningful. That’s the case for Vancouver-based cruiser, Lauren Upham, in her article “Baby on Board” on page 34. She and her husband recently welcomed their first child, a baby girl named Vela. They’re in the midst of the awe-inspiring and occasionally inconvenient changes that come with becoming parents (something I’ve had a crash course in this year, myself), and she welcomes us into their on-going transition from a sailing couple to a sailing family. She shares stories of their initial visits to the boat, and then a first weekend cruise to Sucia Island with Vela. Lauren’s account is beautifully steeped in the appreciation that they’ll be forever changed as they rediscover the world of water-borne adventure through their daughter’s eyes.

As you untie your dock lines this fall, I wish you safe and happy times on the water first and foremost. Perhaps you’ll collect a sea story or two while you’re out there, too. If it involves some change or transformation, you’ll know it’s a goodie.

I’ll see you on the water,

Volume XLII, Number 3, October 2022 (206) 789-7350 info@48north.com | www.48north.com

Publisher Northwest Maritime Center

Managing Editor Joe Cline joe@48north.com

Editor Andy Cross andy@48north.com

Designer Rainier Powers rainier@48north.com

Advertising Sales Kachele Yelaca kachele@48north.com

Classifieds classads48@48north.com

Photographer Jan Anderson

48° North is published as a project of the Northwest Maritime Center 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.

Joe Cline Managing Editor

News from the Northwest Maritime Center

WOODEN BOAT FESTIVAL MAGIC RETURNS AFTER THREE YEARS

I'd compare it to a kinked hose of Festival energy. When Northwest Maritime Center's flagship event, the Port Townsend Wooden Boat Festival (WBF), opened its gates in early September, a flood of positivity and boat-love came rushing out. Simply put, it was my favorite WBF ever.

Point Hudson Marina was chock-ablock with Festival favorites like Lady Washington, schooners like Adventuress and Martha, as well as dozens and dozens of others. The small boat plaza was loaded with some of the most intricate boat art you can find anywhere.

At a Festival where you can board a 109-year-old schooner and see many other boats launched before World War II that are still in better-than-new

condition, there were also fourteen boats on display that had been launched since the most recent Festival. These new builds ranged in size from just under 10 feet to over 34 feet, and included paddle, oar, sail, and motor driven vessels.

Attendance was outstanding. Every day felt vibrant and full from early morning until last call was announced at Bar Harbor. One can't help but gawk on the docks, which keeps the pace refreshingly slow as you explore. And, it never ceases to amaze me how the hours can pass while chatting with just a few of these wooden beauties' stewards.

The always impressive array of inspiring and educational seminars were packed. Multiple presenters

I spoke with noted their humbling surprise to find their presentation rooms filled to standing-room-only. Seminar highlights included Karl Krüger's tales from paddling the Northwest Passage; a deeply fascinating and technical look into the evolution of multihulls with a panel that included Ryan Finn, Russel Brown, Steve Callahan, Paul Bieker, and surprise guest Roger Hatfield; and an afternoon of sea stories that I had the privilege to moderate with Festival Headliners Lin Pardey, Nigel Calder, Steve Callahan, and Karl Krüger.

It was a treat to have WBF back. That it was so special — well that almost defies logic. That's Festival magic for you.

-Joe Cline

» www.woodenboat.org

SPARS,

Oct. 7-9

Northwest Maritime Center

ANCHORING

Oct. 18-19

BUILD YOUR OWN SHEARWATER DUCK SEA KAYAK

Oct. 24-30 Northwest Maritime Center

RULES OF THE ROAD AND AIDS

Nov. 8-9 Online

48° NORTH COLUMNIST, ERICA LICHTY, HIRED AT MARITIME HIGH SCHOOL

Readers of 48° North will recognize Erica Lichty as the author of our recurring paddling column, "Paddle Path." She was recently announced as the new Maritime Education Coordinator at MHS. Born and raised in the PNW, Lichty is a graduate of California State Maritime Academy, a USCG licensed captain, an accomplished athlete, and is the founder of the nonprofit SEASTR PNW that focuses on SocioEnviornmental Advocacy (SEA).

MARINE SYSTEMS: A LESSON IN TROUBLESHOOTING AND TIPS

Nov. 11-12 Northwest Maritime Center

ELECTRONIC NAVIGATION &VHF

Nov. 15-16 Online

GOING WAY OFF THE GRID

Dec. 2-3

Northwest Maritime Center

DECK THE HULLS WITH BOATSHOP OFFCUTS

Dec. 10-11 Northwest Maritime Center

U.S. SENATOR PATTY MURRAY VISITS MARITIME HIGH SCHOOL

In late August, U.S. Senator Patty Murray (D-WA), Chair of the Senate Health, Education, Labor, and Pensions (HELP) Committee, met with students and educators at Maritime High School (MHS) in Des Moines, WA. During her visit to MHS — which is a collaborative project of Highline Public Schools, Northwest Maritime Center, Port of Seattle, and the Duwamish River Community Coalition, with the goal of preparing students for well-paid, meaningful, and lasting careers — Senator Murray said, “When we invest in our schools and students, we invest in our future — and programs like the ones here at Maritime High School play a huge part in making that a reality.”

As most readers know, 48° North has been published by the Northwest Maritime Center (NWMC) since 2018. We are continually amazed by the inspiring and important work of our colleagues and organization, and are excited to dedicate this page to sharing a bit about it with you. This page affirms that 48° North is part of something bigger, and that we think the missionminded efforts of our organization matter to our readers, and are good for this community and publication.

From Lynn Cox: Nice write-up and description.

From Kai Cox: This was the best Opti regatta our family has attended. Great balance of racing and the ability to enjoy the area.

From Kerry Poe: Nice job, Andrew Nelson.

From Sail Orcas: So great to see Columbia Gorge Racing Association (CGRA), The Sailing Foundation (TSF), and all the volunteeers hit a home run with Opti Nationals. The Youth WIND clinic and regatta were excellent as well this year at CGRA.

Delightfully Deserted Fjords

Hi Joe, We just spent a week exploring Belize and Seymour inlets, only accessible by going through the Nakwakto Rapids (one of the most powerful in the world!). Once through the rapids, there are 220 miles of delightfully deserted fjords to cruise. That could be an interesting story for you. We’re starting to head back through the Broughton Archipelago and Desolation Sound for some fall cruising. Internet is scarce up here, but we had lots of dolphins for companions today!

More later, Karen Johnson M/V Mischief

Response to Andrew Nelson’s Coverage of Opti Nationals in the September 2022 Issue: “Little Boats on the Big Stage”

low & Events

NORTHWEST MARINE TRADE ASSOCIATION ANNOUNCES GROW BOATING GRANTS, DEADLINE OCT. 31

The Northwest Marine Trade Association (NMTA) is pleased to announce the 2022 grant program for non-profits or forprofit entities applying for a specific grow boating purpose. The grants are being awarded through the NMTA’s Grow Boating program whose mission is to increase the number of boaters and encourage current boaters to boat more often. Since 2003, NMTA has spent more than $2 million to promote boating in the Pacific Northwest through various events, sponsorships, grants, and programs. The NMTA will award 10 grants of $1,000.

The application process is now open and closes October 31, 2022. Grants will be announced in December 2022 and funds distributed to grantees in the spring of 2023.

NMTA’s Grow Boating program is funded by a portion of space rental fees collected by the association at its Seattle Boat Show each year.

“We know that many groups and programs were hard hit by COVID-19 in 2020 and 2021, so we’re very pleased to be able to offer these grants to help our valuable community-based organizations continue their amazing programs,” said Karsten McIntosh, NMTA’s director of communications.

Applications must fall into one the following categories:

YOUTH BOATING GRANT

Awarded to a group or organization seeking funding support for an event or program aimed specifically at getting or increasing youth participation in boating activities.

DISCOVER BOATING GRANT

Awarded to a group or organization seeking funding support for an event or program aimed specifically at introducing new people to boating.

BOATER EDUCATION / SAFETY GRANT

Awarded to a group or organization seeking funding support for an event or program aimed specifically at educating new or current boaters on how to be safe on the water.

Contact Karsten McIntosh at NMTA (karsten@nmta.net) with questions. To apply for a grant or for more information, visit: » www.nmta.net/grants

low tides » October Racing in the Central Sound

FOULWEATHER BLUFF RACE RETURNS TO KINGSTON

Corinthian Yacht Club of Edmonds' 42nd Annual Foulweather Bluff Race will be held October 1, 2022. After a successful trial last year, the venue for the race — including the start and all shore-side activities — will once again be Kingston. The race still takes sailors to Foulweather Bluff and back. Kingston Cove Yacht Club will host events ashore, which are family friendly and were a big hit in 2021 and should be again in 2022!

» www.cycedmonds.org/foulweatherbluffrace

CYC PUGET SOUND SAILING CHAMPIONSHIP (BIG & SMALL)

As always, Corinthian Yacht Club of Seattle is hosting two weekends of championship sailboat racing in October. The first weekend, October 1-2, welcomes dinghy classes and small one-design keelboat classes. The second weekend, October 8-9 welcomes larger boats in PHRF, ORC, and one-design classes to the waters off of Shilshole Bay. Join the fun!

» www.cycseattle.org

SYC GRAND PRIX WILL NOT REQUIRE QUALIFYING

Seattle Yacht Club's Grand Prix Regatta for 2022 will take place October 21-23 at Shilshole Bay Marina. As in 2021, this year's Grand Prix will not require qualifying — it's open to all competitors, no qualifying regattas necessary. Grand Prix welcomes ORC, PHRF, and one-design classes. Racing will provide a balance of buoys and mid-distance courses, as the conditions allow. Registration and details at:

» www.seattleyachtclub.org

SLOOP TAVERN YACHT CLUB'S ARRAY OF OPTIONS

For sailboat racers looking for a bit more variety, the Sloop Tavern (STYC) crew is here for you, hosting three different races this month. The Fall Regatta is a traditional multi-race regatta format on October 15. Race Your House is for liveaboards to race their boat homes on October 29. And October 30's Great Pumpkin Race is a reverse-start using most of STYC's marks.

» www.styc.org

low tides » News & Events

POINT HUDSON JETTY REBUILD BEGINS, MARINA CLOSED UNTIL SPRING 2023

The two jetties that protect the entrance to Point Hudson in Port Townsend were built in 1934, when the U.S. government built an immigration and quarantine center which later became a U.S. Coast Guard station. The government also built the white-washed buildings that now make up the historic landscape surrounding a marina that locals and visitors alike consider a gem.

At 88 years old, the deterioration of those jetties has threatened the entire marina, its 50 boater slips and the annual 5,000 vessel visits. It has also impacted the surrounding businesses, which employ over 150 county residents. In recent years, winter storms combined with king tides have been able to surge through the marina.

The Port of Port Townsend Commission, determined to save the marina, sought voter approval in 2019 of an Industrial Development District (IDD) levy in part to help fund the rebuild of the jetties. Voters agreed. Those funds have been used to leverage millions in other funds now earmarked as part of the estimated $16.2 million construction cost of replacing both jetties over two years.

Engineering was completed by Mott McDonald. The construction, by Orion Marine Contractors of Tacoma, is underway and began the day after the 2022 Wooden Boat Festival in mid-September. The marina is now closed, except for vessels coming into the SEA Marine haulout for work.

At a groundbreaking ceremony at the edge of the marina held September 14, Port Executive Director Eron Berg credited strong teamwork and assistance from many government entities to bring the project to fruition. Behind him, a barged crane from Orion had already started its work.

The work on the north jetty is expected to be completed by March 1, 2023. That’s when the marina is expected to reopen for the spring and summer boating seasons. In September 2023, also after the Wooden Boat Festival, the south jetty (closest to downtown Port Townsend) is scheduled for rebuild. The marina will again close

until the work is done, expected by March 1, 2024.

Throughout the jetty work, the Point Hudson RV Park is expected to remain open. RV Park spaces (and marina moorage for those months when the marina is open) can be reserved online through www.PortofPT.com. Updates about the status of the Point Hudson jetties and marina will also be posted on the website.

Port of PT Harbormaster Kristian Ferrero has found room for all of Point Hudson’s permanently moored boats inside the larger Boat Haven Marina at the other end of town. This has reduced, but not eliminated, the amount of transient boater space at the Boat Haven. Call the Boat

Haven at (360) 385-2355 for information.

The new jetties have been designed to look substantially like the old ones, except with steel pilings replacing the creosoted logs, and harder rocks to form the crib. The new jetties should last at least another 50 years.

Funding for the jetty replacement has come from many sources. A branch of the U.S. Department of Commerce, the Economic Development Administration, has committed $7 million. Washington State’s capital budget includes $2.5 million. Additional funds are coming from the IDD levy, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, and Jefferson County’s Public Infrastructure Fund.

In 2019, a winter storm combined with a king tide showed the vulnerability of the Point Hudson Marina jetty.

Port of Port Townsend commissioners and staff joined officials from Jefferson County government agencies at the Point Hudson groundbreaking.

low Events

MARINE CORROSION PROTECTION WORKSHOP, PORT HADLOCK OCT. 15

Washington Sea Grant, the Northwest School of Wooden Boatbuilding, and Washington State University Jefferson are co-sponsoring a Marine Corrosion Protection Workshop. This is a hands-on class for marine professionals and boat owners (both commercial and recreational). Topics covered include:

• Galvanic corrosion of aluminum, steel and bronze

• Crevice corrosion of stainless steel

• Potential monitoring systems for aluminum and bronze

• Advantages and disadvantages of different types of anodes

• Test methods for detecting AC and DC stray current

• And more!

The workshop takes place October 15, 2022, from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. at the Northwest School Wooden Boatbuilding. Fee: $80.

» Pre-registration is required: sfisken@uw.edu

PORT OF LOPEZ LAUNCHES NEW FREE PUMPOUT BOAT IN FISHERMAN BAY

A new sewage pumpout boat is providing free service to recreational boaters in the San Juan Islands. The Port of Lopez received a grant in 2021 from the National Fish and Wildlife Foundation to build an electric-powered pumpout vessel. A separate grant from the Washington State Parks Clean Vessel Act Grant Program is supporting the operations and maintenance of the vessel, along with financial backing from the Port.

“We’re thrilled to assist the Port in establishing this new service and hope to see others like it in the region,” said Catherine Buchalski Smith, Clean Vessel Act Grant Program manager.

Pumpout services are free to recreational vessels, but boaters must make an appointment ahead of time. Boaters can request a pumpout appointment by phone at (360) 504-7982, by hailing VHF channel 78, or by email at » pumpout@portoflopez.com

low tides » In The Biz

WINDWORKS YACHT SALES IS NEW BAVARIA YACHTS DEALER

Windworks Yacht Sales, the broker/ dealer affiliate to Windworks Sailing and Powerboating, was recently named the Bavaria Yachts dealer for Washington, Oregon, and Idaho. Owner, Mark Evans, is thrilled to bring on the Bavaria line, which he says is a nice complement to their dealership for Catalina Yachts.

Windworks intends to display a Bavaria C45 sailboat at the 2023 Seattle Boat Show, and has a Bavaria SR41 powerboat on order as well.

» www.windworksyachtsales.com

NORTHWEST MARINA & BOATYARD CONFERENCE SPEAKERS AND SCHEDULE ANNOUNCED

The Northwest Marine Trade Association (NMTA) organizes the upcoming Northwest Marina & Boatyard Conference at the Kitsap Convention Center in Bremerton, Washington October 5 - 7. NMTA recently announced presentations from State’s Public Lands Commissioner, Hilary Franz, Senate Ways & Means Chair, and NMTA Legislator of the Year, Senator Christine Rolfes, industry experts, and agency administrators for this valuable in-person gathering. The information shared formally and informally will be

of tremendous value to anyone with an interest in boating in Washington state. HIGHLIGHTS:

Hear from NOAA's lead permit author and regional director about the new nearshore (aka Marine Permit) development parameters released in June 2022.

Regulators, environmental consultants, and legal experts will provide a checklist toward compliance with the new Boatyard Permit, which impacts boatyards directly and all marine interests indirectly.

» www.nmta.net

Fuel Filtering...Tank Cleaning

(Water, Algae, Sludge and Particle Removal Service)

Changing filters often?

Don't let bad fuel or dirty tanks ruin your next cruise!

Whether you're cruising the Pacific Northwest, heading for Alaska, Mexico or around the world, now is the time to filter your fuel & tank

... before trouble finds you ... out there!

low tides » Products News

» RESQLINK VIEW PLB

Recently, Return Link Service (RLS), was integrated into ACR’s new ResQLink View PLB and has been approved for use by the U.S. and Canada (among other countries). The View RLS model takes beacon reassurance to a whole new level by allowing message scrolls on a built-in screen. This gives the user a higher level of confidence knowing that your distress message has been received and localized at a Cospas-Sarsat ground station and forwarded to the appropriate government rescue agency. The ResQLink View’s digital display also provides live status and GPS coordinates, and requires no subscription for use. A strobe and infrared strobe facilitate nighttime, or other low visibility, rescues. Simply deploy the antenna, press the ‘on’ button, and the beacon will guide rescuers to within 100 meters or less of your position.

Price: $389.99 » www.acrartex.com

» GOBIUS C TANK SENSOR

Every boat owner knows the trouble with water, waste, and fuel tanks — it can be hard to get a reliable, accurate level reading. Gobius by Albin is changing that with a simple external tank sensor. The new Gobius C features stepless 0–100% fluid measurement to calculate precise levels and internal volume — no matter the container’s shape or material — and display readings on a Bluetooth-enabled device or BUS network. The monitoring system instantly delivers data accurate to within 3mm and is engineered for use on any metal, fiberglass, or plastic fuel, waste, or potable water tank. The sensor is installed on top of the container with 3M tape so there’s never any contact with fluids or semi-solids that could damage it or affect performance. Built-in wave motion reduction eliminates variances in readings due to contents sloshing around. The Gobius C uses Android, iOS, and PC apps for easy monitoring.

Price: $390 » www.gobiuspro.com

» ZHIK ANTHRACITE CST500 JACKET

Just in time for the rainy season, Zhik’s CST500™ jacket is purpose built to provide lightweight protection, comfort, and performance across a wide range of conditions. Part of their high performance coastal range, this jacket is equally as comfortable in short-haul and overnight crossings, as it is in any level of sailboat racing. Available in womens and mens styles, and three color options, the CST500™ range features highly breathable and durable Aroshell® fabric technology, paired with numerous weight-saving and comfort providing features. Fully seam-taped and critically reinforced for ultimate protection, new Zithane® fused reinforcement panels have replaced the traditional heavy denier reinforcements — creating a jacket that is both highly durable and light weight.

Price: $469.99 » www.zhik.com

CROSSWORD AND TRIVIA

DID YOU KNOW? by Bryan Henry

Goldfish can learn tricks.

There are more than 800 varieties of eels. Varieties of catfish include mountain, bumblebee, and velvet catfish.

Sawfish are rays with gills on their underside, while sawsharks are sharks with gills on their side.

Mangrove killifish can survive for several months out of water.

About one billion fish live in aquariums in the United States.

Some koi fish can live for more than 200 years.

Stonefish are the most poisonous fish in the world.

More than 200 species of saltwater fish are protected by venomous spines.

Hagfish are not only jawless, they’re boneless. Their skull is made of cartilage, not vertebrae.

Boxfish are just that, shaped like a box.

The slender snipe eel is five feet long but only weighs a few ounces.

Ribbon eel begin life as males but later become egg-laying females.

Some sea sponges can sneeze.

Sea cucumbers produce a powerful drug, holothurin, which may be useful in treating cancers.

As of 2008, there were 405 dead zones in the oceans, which are areas where oxygen is too depleted to support most life. The largest dead zone in the United States is at the mouth of the Mississippi River.

The National Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame in Hayward, Wisconsin, has more than 4,000 fish specimens.

A BILGE REVEALS

WHERE BIG TROUBLE LURKS

by Marty McOmber

Our 1984 Passport 40, Rounder, has a deep bilge. Of course, I’ve looked down into the well at the aft end of it before and each time, my brain registered three things in quick succession.

First, “That looks gross.”

Second, “I will definitely need to do a proper cleaning of this area.”

And third, “This will be a dirty, difficult and thankless task that is best left for another day.”

I was already way behind schedule with my punchlist to prepare Rounder for what turned out to be a nearly six-week, almost 1,000-mile circumnavigation of Vancouver Island when I noticed a slurry of sticky gray gunk in an upper bilge stemming from the cleanup of a major construction project over the winter.

I worried that if some of that slurry had reached the depths of the lower bilge, it might gum up our bilge pumps. Reluctantly, I came to the conclusion that it was time to give the deep bilge a deep clean.

What I discovered when I did dumbfounded me.

On the Passport 40, just aft of the engine the bilge falls off into a deep well. From the cabin sole, that well measures 3.5 feet deep. And the only access to that section of the bilge is a small door that opens into the narrow passage between the galley counter and the navigation station.

Over the past decade of refitting our boat, I’ve been in just about every corner of the boat imaginable, always making the

extra effort to ensure I inspect those corners carefully and leave them in better shape than I found them — cleaned and painted if possible.

But not this deep well in the bilge. It was literally the last place in the boat that hadn’t been given a thorough going over. It was definitely out of sight and out of mind, just the kind of place where the stuff that hits the fan during an emergency hides in wait for said fan.

I stuck my very bright LED work light into the well and looked down into the abyss. In theory, there was just a few inches of water in the bottom of that well. But it was inky black water that looked as if it might just be bottomless. I shuddered a bit at the thought.

Our boat’s first engine was a Mercedes Nanni diesel, which was notorious for oil leaks and discarded before we purchased the boat. Rounder currently has a Yanmar that hasn’t leaked a drop in more than 1,000 hours of use. But the residue of the old engine's foibles clearly had done a number in the deep part of the bilge.

I took out a thin bronze rod and began poking around the bottom of the bilge. I expected to feel a solid, smooth bottom. What I found, though, was a layer of muck covering an uneven layer of solid stuff. What the hell was all of that?

Whatever it was, I knew I had a bigger issue than some slurry and oily sludge. If we ever needed to actually use our bilge pumps in an emergency, there was apparently a mysterious pile of debris that could clog them and lead to disaster.

I returned to the boat the next day, armed with a cheap wet/dry vacuum and our small power washer. I also grabbed SHEETS NORTHWEST

several lidded 5-gallon buckets from the marina to store the wastewater from this cleaning project.

Most importantly, I had one of those 2-foot-long pickup tools that can grab items which are normally out of reach. There was simply no other way to reach the bottom of that well with my normal-length arm and the limited amount of access.

I sprayed the bottom of the well with high-pressure water, then vacuumed it out. After several rounds of this, the shape of the debris field at the bottom started to come into view. But I still couldn’t make out what I was looking at.

I had to lay on my stomach next to the access door and reach into the well with my left arm. With my shoulder wedged in the little door opening and my face squished against the side of the galley counter, I could just reach the bottom of the bilge with the grabber. Of course I couldn’t see what I was doing, so I had to work mostly by feel.

My first few forays with the grabber netted a bunch of cut zip ties. I grumbled. I’ve had to cut and replace a lot of zip ties in my time and I’m always careful to properly dispose of them. It peeved me that someone in the 20-odd years before we bought the boat thought it was okay to let these just drop down into the bilge.

I could also tell that there was much more than just zip ties down there. I just couldn’t figure out what.

Dozens and dozens of times, I got into the proper boat yoga position — which I call downward bilge idiot — to make another stab at picking up stuff.

I rooted around by feel until I scored a solid grab. Then I would carefully lift the loot from the bottom, rolling my body on its side, slowly get on my knees and then attempt to pull the item out through the little door.

What is this thing I just got hold of? Carefully up, up it came. Then finally, into the light. Oh, a pen. What the hell was someone doing waving a pen around in this area and then dropping it?

Each successful grab usually required two or three unsuccessful attempts. Often, the item would be halfway up and then fall out of the relatively weak grip of the three little metal claws of the grabber.

Oh, this one feels interesting. Hmmm. A broken screwdriver handle. And here comes a socket. A hose clamp, that makes sense. Some wire, screws, a wrench, another screwdriver. And a big chunk of glass. Glass?! How in the hell did that get down there?

I began to feel like an archeologist rooting around in some ancient trash bin.

Hour after hour, this went on. I started to unearth bigger and bigger pieces of junk, including plywood. Plywood? After puzzling on it, I figured someone must have hacked out a nonstructural area in the compartment to facilitate the engine removal and replacement.

The more stuff I found, the more I was committed to getting every last piece of junk out of that well. But I was also getting really annoyed. It’s one thing to drop something in the bilge and shrug it off occasionally; it’s another to do that over and over and over again.

Nuts, washers, a plastic knife. More plywood. An old bilge pump float switch attached to a plastic platform.

And then I discovered a round, heavy piece of metal near the back. I couldn’t fathom what it was. At first it seemed like it might be attached to the bottom. Some crazy old-style pump? But eventually it came loose. After a good 30 minutes and about a half dozen frustrating drops back into the well, I manage to extract it.

It was a prop shaft coupling. Luckily, it wasn’t the prop shaft coupling that was attached to our engine. But still. At some point, someone separated the propeller shaft from the coupling, let it drop into the bilge and then never bothered to retrieve it. They must have known it was down there. What were they thinking, that the bilge fairy would come at night, take it away and leave a few dollars under the pillow? That the water would eventually dissolve it? That it would add needed ballast down low?

At this point, I was sweaty, dirty, sore, disgusted, and mad. I was mad at the people who had worked on this boat in the past with so little care. And I was mad at myself for having ignored this potential problem for so long. It was so much worse than I had expected.

Finally, I was done. A few more sweeps of the pressure washer and about 15 gallons of wastewater later, the bilge well was debris-free and a lot cleaner.

Relieved that this task was behind me, I drove home that night still haunted by what could have happened if I had left that mess in place. It was a reminder that on a boat, out of sight should never be out of mind. Because it is in those dark and dirty spaces where the biggest trouble lurks — and maybe a shaft coupling or two.

Marty McOmber is a Pacific Northwest sailor, writer, and strategic communications professional. He is currently working on refitting and improving his 1984 Passport 40, Rounder, for continued cruising adventures near and far.

Even a well prepared boat like Rounder can have some gremlins lurking in its deepest, darkest corners.

CASTING OFF20

PERSONAL TOUCH: MAKING ARIEL FEEL LIKE HOME

by David Casey

When my wife, Laura, and I were searching for our first boat after moving to the Pacific Northwest, we spent hours reviewing the qualities and characteristics of boats for sale. Being new to boating, we could only guess at what features were “must-haves” and which were “nice but not necessary.”

When we finally settled on Ariel, a 1973 Columbia 28, we really weren’t sure how long we would keep her before trading up to a bigger or newer vessel. On the one hand, we felt that we would own Ariel forever. She’s a sweet little sloop: cute, cozy, and just the right beam and length for novice sailors like ourselves. On the other hand, just about everyone we talked to warned us of one-foot-itis. Apparently, we would eventually outgrow Ariel. But initially, our biggest concern was merely her appearance as much as anything.

Like a home or car, it’s said that a boat never looks better than just after you bought it or just before you’re going to sell it. Our actions certainly proved that adage. In the first weeks after purchasing Ariel, we scrubbed her decks from bow to stern. We sanded and varnished the teak hatch doors and deck handles. We stocked her with coffee, tea, wine, and beer. We cleaned out the alcohol stove and flushed the water tanks. When we proudly displayed Ariel to our dock mates, we were advised that bottom paint was actually more important and preventative than any topside cleaning. While the cost of the bottom procedure was a little shocking, we chose to have it done.

The haulout was exciting to witness, seeing our small boat now looming large out of the water, high above the blacktop of the boat yard we had selected. The barnacles and mussels were thick on the rudder and keel, although they gave up their hold rather easily when scraped with a flat, thick steel shovel. As is so often the case with most jobs, inspections and repairs beget more inspections and repairs.

We were informed by the yard that a large blister-type patch in the aft section of the hull was soft and likely to fail eventually.

What we learned was that after Ariel’s original diesel engine had been removed and replaced with an outboard motor in the aft portion of the cockpit, the exit hole for the drive shaft was patched, apparently rather poorly. We were lucky to find a first rate fiberglass technician whose work resulted in a flawless invisible repair, leaving us with a smooth, newly painted bottom to accompany our gleaming topside.

Once you settle into a boat or a house and finally empty the last packing box that often felt like it would find a permanent home in the hallway, you can at last decide what changes will really make it yours. For Ariel, my ideas were different from Laura’s. Since I’m a woodworker and tinkerer, I saw opportunities to add cabinets, enhance storage space, or customize tables or counters. And while Laura is an artist, her idea for making Ariel feel like she was truly ours was not to embellish the boat with more paintings or sketches, but rather to

Patched and faired bottom from the previous drive shaft.

Ariel comes out of the water; what surprises will they find?

picnic in the cockpit or dine at the cabin table with friends and family.

As it turned out, Laura’s plan was easier to pull off than mine. Within days of owning our nearly-50-year-old boat, we were having lunch at the dock and inviting friends for coffee or a drink. It didn’t matter that Ariel was still tethered to the pier, we were on the water, watching a seal occasionally peek its head up a few feet from our stern, or a trio of ducks splash an awkward landing in the harbor channel. As the months moved on, the Pacific Northwest weather didn’t always cooperate. In fact, the cold, wet and windy winter moved every social event to a below-deck location, accompanied by a heater providing comfort to our chilled feet and legs. But still, boat lunches made Ariel feel more and more like our boat, even if the PNW weather was not cooperative.

During the first few months as boat owners, Laura and I were living in an apartment, with a woodshop for me conspicuously absent from the picture. Once we moved to a house — which happened to be even closer to the marina than the apartment — I immediately commandeered the garage for my shop and looked at Ariel in a new light, revisiting my initial desire to add cabinet work to the V-berth. For months, we had hung colorful flag-banners over three large cut-outs on the inside panel of the berth. It almost seemed like the flags would find a final resting place there, like the unpacked boxes after a home move; but with a three-day cruise looming ahead for us, adding storage space and closing in the cavernous holes that could swallow up glasses or books seemed like a must-do woodworking project, with a lesson in boat structure thrown in.

Traditional cabinet work is very orthogonal — right angles, parallel sides, planar faces. So it was without thought that I built the inset “medicine chest-type” cabinets for the holes. I measured the openings carefully, even planning for the variation in depth from three inches at the lower shelf to five inches at the upper. It was a small challenge that made the project interesting. But when it came time to install the boxes, I was met with a conundrum. The face frames wouldn’t sit flat against the wall. After thinking about it for about half a second, I felt pretty stupid. Of course the wall wasn’t planar. It’s a boat! So, back to the shop to cut

away sections of the face frame, and then a return to Ariel for a final fitting and painting, which, while not perfect, satisfied both me and Laura, adding a feeling of safety and comfort to the berth. Onto the next project.

The repair of the delaminated tiller was a fun woodworking job that also gave me a little experience working with marine finishes. The abundance of wood finishes for furniture pales in comparison to the variety of options for boats. Friends recommended Epiphanes to seal and protect the tiller. After five coats of increasing concentrations, the contoured tiller looked brand new and replaced the temporary linear one that we had purchased at Longship Marine in Poulsbo.

Perhaps the most powerful feeling of ownership came serendipitously while unlocking the combination lock for the hatch doors. We never bothered to change the worn brass padlock from the previous owner or even change the rotating combination. But after a few months of opening and closing, the lock finally gave up the ghost, and the U-shaped ring separated from the casing. With a brand new lock in place on the hatch doors, set with our own personalized four-digit combination, it was as if we finally received the keys to our new house. This was indeed our boat, with our stuff, and our personal touches placed upon her.

Sailing the old girl around Commencement Bay only added to our feeling of ownership. Learning the nuances of how Ariel behaved as she headed to weather or fell off on a comfortable beam reach gave me the confidence and feeling of control that allowed us to relax into our new ownership. While picnics in the cockpit and cabinets in the galley made Ariel feel like our home, trimming her sails and cutting through the waves made her feel like our boat. For a woodworker-turnedsailor, I’m finding that the trim of the sails is far more important than the trim on the cabinets. But I’m still not ready to hang up my hammer yet. You never know what equipment might need a little persuasion to get it back in line.

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

Even a simple changing of a lock gives the boat a different feel.

The author’s handywork creates better storage in Ariel’s V-berth.

CLOSE TO THE WATER

A RIVER OF STORIES

by Bruce Bateau

I’vealways thought of the Wooden Boat Festival in Port Townsend as a broad, winding river full of stories and Each time I attend, I jump in

with a destination in mind, but once in the current, I’m pulled along from one pleasantly unexpected island to another. Last week, I went to the festival for

the first time in years. Not only to jump into that river again, but to put closure on my voyage through the Inside Passage back in 2019. After I returned from that trip, people kept asking what it was like. I’d taken over a thousand pictures along the way, but couldn’t figure out which of those images could actually convey what I experienced during my weeks on the water.

So instead of a traditional slideshow, I created an immersive storytelling performance piece and planned a series of shows. Unfortunately, the pandemic canceled all but the initial presentation. During the strangeness of the ensuing years, I started to think that the moment had passed. A few persistent friends kept asking about it, and the festival seemed like a perfect opportunity to revive it.

On Thursday afternoon, I sailed up to the rocky entrance of the Port Hudson Marina and radioed the harbormaster for permission to enter. “WELCOME to the festival,” a warm, enthusiastic voice boomed over the VHF. “Come on in, Row Bird!”

I rowed up to the shallow edge of D-dock, opposite a 32-foot Grand Banks motor-cruiser. Its captain, Jeff, gave me a wave and a friendly smile. Despite piloting one of the smallest vessels there, I felt welcome immediately.

After securing Row Bird to the dock, I headed for a restroom break ashore. But I hadn’t even reached the gangway when a sapphire hull caught my eye. It was my friend Alex’s new 24-foot boat, Camas Moon. “How was the trip over from Victoria?” I asked. Soon, despite the signals from my bladder, I found myself captivated by the details of his circuitous route.

My presentation was scheduled for Saturday morning, and I worried that I’d spend Friday, the first day of the festival, obsessing over my preparedness. To avert my anxiety, I made a long list of demonstrations and booths that I hoped to see, while also setting aside time to greet visitors on Row Bird.

I should have known better than to worry, because soon I was immersed in the festival’s river of stories once again, this time caught in an eddy of people stopping by my boat. A woman told me about learning to sail in Port Angeles and was intrigued by the compact nature of my boat. “Come to Portland, and we’ll go sailing,” I promised. Then came a couple whose last boat was destroyed by a hurricane in Guatemala; undaunted, they were building their own canoe yawl for cruising to Belize. The stories just kept coming — and I didn’t make it to a single presentation.

By late afternoon, I had been sucked down a side channel; a friend’s son convinced me to take him on as crew in the 26-foot-and-under sailboat race. The wind seemed gusty, and I was a bit reluctant to sail with someone I barely knew. But as we rowed out, he recounted his experience racing small boats in Portland, and I began to relax. “Chris, we’re going to be non-competitors in this race.” I told him. “We’re going to follow everyone, with the goals of having fun, staying upright, and not hitting anyone.”

With two reefs in the mainsail, we started tacking back-and-forth near the starting line. As the starting gun went off, I realized we were under-canvassed, so we sailed past the line and hove-to for a moment to shake out the reefs. In the process, we drifted back towards the committee boat, narrowly missing it as I hauled the sail back up. Fortunately, we moved on to our other goals: having fun and rounding the course without adding any new (and unfortunate) stories of drama to the festival waters.

On Saturday morning, a few minutes before my presentation, I walked up to the Adventure Stage. “What, you don’t have any slides?” one of the AV guys asked.

“This is going to be interesting,” his partner joked.

Despite secret fears that only my wife and a few hardcore boating buddies would attend, by start time, most of the seats in the room were filled, and soon newcomers were sitting on the floor. Taking a deep breath (and summoning dramatic skills honed by years of reading bedtime stories) I launched into my first episode, a tale about anchoring off an

island in British Columbia. Smiles broke out across the crowd. Encouraged, I went on to describe encounters with whales and sea lions, followed by a story of a frightening crossing, during which I demonstrated in real time the donning of a drysuit in harrowing conditions.

Standing in front of so many knowledgeable sailors, I felt selfconscious about sharing my experiences. But that afternoon, many of those same sailors drifted over to the dock where Row Bird and I were stationed, bringing adventures of their own. “When I was younger, we went on a trip up past Desolation Sound and got our behinds handed to us,” an older man told me. One couple described their joy in running rivers in a $1,500 wooden drift boat. The deluge of stories continued all day, and I found myself smiling so much that my cheeks began to hurt.

Some folks who stopped by had no stories of their own — at least, not yet. “We really appreciate your writing and liked your show,” one woman said. “We just have SUPs, and we’re not adventurers, but this kind of thing inspires us to get out near our house.” Others came to learn and ask questions, “I’ve always wanted to go to Canada… do you think I could do it with my 24-foot power boat?”

Or, “I was thinking of building a boat like this; how hard was it to complete?”

These visitors brought me back to

my first festival, nearly 15 years ago. I remembered feeling the same sense of possibility then, and asking similar questions. I remembered how welcoming the experienced boaters were, and how patiently they answered my lubberly queries. I’ve always appreciated that whether someone comes to the festival in a 30-pound kayak or a 10-ton schooner, we’re all respected as part of the wooden boat family. Now, talking to folks just starting out in their boating adventures, I felt proud to be part of that tradition.

After three days of soaking up techniques, ambling from cockpit to cockpit for drinks, and drifting down the river of stories with friends new and old, I felt a twinge of sadness as I watched boats around me prepare to depart. A fellow sailor who stopped by was clearly feeling the same way. The festival was the high point of his summer, he confided, and it also represented the end of good weather for carefree cruising. I understood what he meant. But my outlook was still buoyant. Each stop along this year’s festival river had energized me, and I was already thinking about all the places I wanted to voyage next season.

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 deep discussion about sail and oar boats.

SEA CHANGE

LEARNING TO BECOME THE CONFIDENT CAPTAIN OF MY OWN BOAT

As first mate of our Island Packet 350, Kagán , there were times when I thought I could capably skipper the boat I’d cruised around the Pacific Northwest for years. It usually followed a tense situation — perhaps a not-so-smooth docking or a misunderstanding while anchoring — and perhaps an also-tense debriefing with my partner, Jerry. If you cruise, I’m sure you’ve had similar moments.

With the benefit of hindsight, it was easy to second-guess his split-second decisions and consider how I would have chosen to handle the same scenario. That is, until it was my turn to be making those calls.

Thinking about one’s own capabilities and believing in them can be miles apart. In this case, nautical miles.

Jerry and I cruised toward the end of the 2012 sailing season, our eighth on Kagán as our summer home. As usual, with me headed back to work, Jerry stayed aboard another month to complete boat projects and tidy up for the offseason. Shortly after he returned to our land-based home in New Mexico, he admitted he hadn’t been feeling so well for some time. Not one to interrupt his favorite activity — cruising Kagán — he’d simply pushed through the symptoms.

After months, with his symptoms worsening, they could no longer be ignored. It was colon cancer. Stage 4. Though it seemed clear this would be terminal, Jerry elected to have surgery with the hope he would live to sail one more season. But the cancer was aggressive, and a mere four months after his diagnosis, Jerry drew his last breath. At peace with his life, he let go of it with grace. It was a privilege, not a hardship, to be with him.

In his final weeks, he’d tied up the few remaining loose ends of his life. One of those was asking if I would sail Kagán, as he couldn’t bear to think of her tethered to a dock more than not. I

said I would, and after giving him that promise, he gave me two of the greatest gifts I have ever received — Kagán, the beautiful boat that has been my summer home in the Pacific Northwest since 2005, and a week-long cruise-and-learn aboard Kagán with Captain Nancy Erley to help me transition from first mate to skipper.

After months of dealing with Jerry’s end-of-life matters, Capi (Kagán’s intrepid little boat dog) and I made it to the boat barely two weeks before Nancy was scheduled to arrive. Maple Bay Marina on Vancouver Island had been our homeport for five years by then. They’d sent flowers after Jerry’s surgery and all our fellow sailors knew what had happened, so I knew I’d be surrounded by sympathetic friends. But I admit to being relieved that there was no one on the docks when Capi and I walked down the steep ramp at low tide. In that moment, I didn’t feel like talking — not about Jerry, or the last few months, or what lay ahead.

The mid-day sun shone, and a light breeze fluttered the flags on neighboring boats as I unhooked Kagán’s gate and stood on tiptoes to place the bags that hung on each of my shoulders into the cockpit. I scooped Capi up in my arms and climbed into the cockpit. She sat on my lap, looking around, sniffing at the air, and I imagined her little black nose detecting familiar, favorite summer smells. Those would be some of the last moments of stillness for some time. Jerry had done a thorough decommissioning, which meant a thorough recommissioning was in my immediate future, and I’d never been aboard for that before. I had just lived through a lot of “last times,” now there were going to be a lot of “firsts.”

I unlocked the padlock that secured Kagán, slid the hatch open, pulled the boards out one by one by one, and descended the companionway to the cabin. It felt like Jerry was right there. It would be several seasons before I didn’t feel his presence in every nook, cranny, and compartment on Kagán. It would take at least as long before I didn’t feel his shadow over my shoulder,

by D. J. Green

The author settled in behind Kagán’s helm.

Capi the boat dog, always at the ready.

especially if I did something differently than I thought he might have.

A wave of grief washed over me. It wasn’t like I’d never been acquainted with that feeling, Jerry and I had met in the first place because we’d both lost spouses, mine in an accident and his to cancer. We used to say our paths crossed because of grief, but we’d decided to walk the same one because of sailing.

Between early morning dog walks, laps back and forth to the storage unit, and crying jags, I managed to complete the commissioning list I’d cobbled together from Jerry’s scribbled notes. The night before Nancy joined us, I sat in the cockpit stroking the cottony softness of Capi’s head as the long twilight of the far-north summer evening faded to night. Capi shuffled backwards on the cockpit cushion and clasped my hand between her front paws.

“What?” I asked, looking down at her.

She peered up at me with her deep brown eyes.

I laughed at her earnestness. But her presence did calm me, a little.

“You’re right. I am nervous.”

I thought I could skipper Kagán, but reflecting back, I didn’t believe it. What I did believe was this — if Nancy could teach me to get out of and into my very narrow slip, I would figure out the rest. When she arrived, we exchanged a few niceties on the dock and she wasted no time stowing her gear while saying, “I want you to get the most learning you can from our time together. Why don’t you start by giving me Kagán’s safety orientation, then we’ll get the engine warmed up.”

“Already?” I wondered.

“Sure, Deb. You said you’ve done the engine checks and prepared the cabin, right?”

I had, using the mechanical and cabin ready-to-go lists Jerry and I had composed and put on index cards we’d laminated. The same ones I still use.

“Let’s get out there and start our learning,” she said.

Kagán getting fitted with a new drifter.

The author, Nancy and Capi work on navigation before setting sail.

We donned life jackets and re-tied the dock lines for an easy exit, then talked through how we’d leave the slip. Nancy had sensed my unease and hoped that off the dock and out on the water, focused on the tasks at hand, I’d forget my fears. We had talked on the phone, planning the cruise, so she had an inkling of what I knew and what I didn’t — or what I thought I knew or didn’t. She was aware that I was fragile and frazzled, grieving Jerry and trying to do everything on Kagán just as he would — in other words, as perfectly as possible. I would learn that some of his choices weren’t so perfect, but Nancy was wise enough to know that wasn’t the time to talk about it.

“Will you pull her out?” I asked, looking at the bigger- and beamier-than-usual powerboat on the dock behind us.

She smiled. “I’ll be right here.”

I shifted into reverse idle and eased back, then turned to port, checking our position from various angles, especially over my left shoulder at that boat I was worried about. With the slightest of hand motions, Nancy suggested I steer to starboard a bit.

“The bow is clear,” she said. “Try forward now. Easy though.”

She was right there, strong and reassuring, but making sure I was doing it, whatever it was.

Another tack she’d take was to ask me something about Kagán, casually, as sailors are wont to do about other people’s boats. I would answer, often in detail, so without her pointing out that I knew one thing or another, she would help me see for myself that I did.

We talked about the role I had played as first mate in setting sails in gusty winds or anchoring in deep, remote coves. Just because I hadn’t been at the helm didn’t mean I hadn’t done it. Then she gently suggested I could also do it on my own, with sensible adjustments. And I would, with Nancy ‘right here’ for encouragement.

So, what about getting into that tight slip? We took it incrementally. After hauling anchor in Montague Harbor, Nancy pointed over to the field of mooring buoys, which were being vacated one by one. “Let’s practice going alongside, but with a mooring buoy. You can imagine that it’s a dock, but it’s no big deal if you knock into it. It’ll give you a sense of where and how you want to turn, and the best angle for approach.”

We did several touch-and-go approaches and it was, incredibly, not scary — it demystified the process. And I did pretty well, which made it feel kind of fun and built my confidence for what was to come.

The week of hands-on learning flew by — sailing, anchoring, using the outboard, going over Kagán’s systems, and long talks about my goals as Kagán’s captain.

Trimming sails on a lively crossing of the Strait of Georgia.

Sunset at anchor in Lyall Harbor. Keeping Kagán beautiful is an ongoing project – prepping to touch up the brightwork.

Nancy declares that our boats are ‘magic carpets’ — and there I was, riding mine!

The final increment of docking training came during Nancy’s last afternoon aboard. I had forgotten that every time Jerry and I came alongside, Capi would bark like mad; presumably excited for her upcoming shore leave. That was all fine and good, but it made concentrating and any crew communication difficult, to say the least.

We planned to do a number of touch-and-go practices on an end dock before heading down the fairway to pull into the slip. I was reminded of Capi’s quirk from the first approach and with every one after — BARK, BARK, BARK, BARK! With each circle out and around, she’d settle long enough for Nancy to give me some input. Seemingly calm as can be, Nancy embodied cool confidence. Despite the distractions, I made some nice landings along the linear dock, and none were disastrous.

Nancy had a ferry to catch, so before long, it was time to circle one last time, then turn into the fairway for home.

“Will you pull her into the slip?” I asked. Nancy just smiled. I gave her a nervous one in return, and said, “I know, you’ll be right here.”

“We know Kagán fits, so don’t even look at the boat next door. Look at the dock and pull up to it, just like you’ve been doing. That’s your job right now, and you can do it!” Nancy encouraged.

And just like that, I docked Kagán in her slip. Maybe there was a bit of beginner’s luck involved, but I greased that first landing. It felt amazing! After getting Capi her much-anticipated shore leave, I reboarded the boat with her in my arms, climbed down the companionway, and leaned in the doorway of the aft cabin while Nancy packed her bag.

“By the way,” she said, “don’t worry about having help on the dock when you’re singlehanding. Everyone will hear you coming. You’ll make sure of that, won’t you, Capi?” Nancy reached over and tussled her ears.

We laughed and hugged, and I might’ve cried too. After so many tough, though sometimes beautiful, transitions in the past months, that week with Nancy was life-changing in the

Kagán on a cloudy, calm afternoon in Hunter Bay.

Kagán at anchor in Shoal Bay with spectacular Phillips Arm as a backyard.

Part of the recommissioning process, changing the anchor light.

best possible way. I often remark that Nancy Erley changed my life that week, but she is always quick to point out that I changed my life. Her skills as a teacher made it possible for me to do so — she made me see I could skipper Kagán. In fact, I already was, even that week.

I thought I would singlehand Kagán one day, but surely not my first season as skipper. The week after my time with Nancy, a friend came out to cruise with me, and I put all I’d learned into practice. Two weeks after, I pulled out of my slip with only my little furry first mate, Capi, and no one else. We motored south through Sansum Narrows and, while approaching Cowichan Bay, a light wind filled in behind us. I unfurled the head sail and ghosted toward Satellite Channel, the rippled seas chuckling along Kagán’s hull. Nancy declares that our boats are ‘magic carpets’— and there I was, riding mine!

Turning east, I trimmed the jib for a beam reach. At about three knots of boat speed, and the current with us to the tune of another half a knot, there were no fireworks, the rail wasn’t in the water, but the quiet exhilaration was like nothing I’d ever felt before. I was the captain of my fair little ship and sailing her. Nine years later, I feel every bit as much joy in those moments as I did in the first one. If you have the chance to claim that for yourself, I hope you will seize the moment, take the chance!

As Eleanor Roosevelt said, “You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing you think you cannot do.” For me, the rewards can be measured in so much more than nautical miles.

D. J. Green (www.geologistwriter.com) is a writer, geologist, and sailor who cruises the Salish Sea on her cutter, Kagán, during the summers. Her first novel, Inundations, is forthcoming from She Writes Press in spring 2024.

Capi and the author took afternoons off to explore by paddle.

MARINA HOSTING AT BLAKE ISLAND STATE PARK

by Neal and Linda Chism

Haveyou ever considered being a volunteer host for the Washington State Park system? Perhaps you’ve met a host at a drive-in campsite. Did you know that if you have a boat, you could be a host at one of the Marine State Parks? Blake Island Marine State Park is one of these wonderful places, and my wife Linda and I hosted for the first time at Blake this August.

We have been recreational boaters for over 30 years and have a Hunter 31, Faster Horses, which is berthed in the Duwamish. As Seattleites, we can see Blake Island on a clear day, and we have always loved visiting the island for day trips and overnights. Though it is just 8 nautical miles from Seattle, being on Blake Island always feels far away.

Most Puget Sound boaters will be familiar with 470-acre Blake Island, which is all forested except for the marina and camping areas on the northeast tip. Before it was a state park, Blake Island was the getaway estate for the wealthy Trimble family in the 1920s. Today, there are 5 miles of shoreline, multiple tent campsites, 8 miles of hiking trails, and three Cascadia Marine Trail kayak camps. For boaters, there are 24 mooring buoys surrounding the island and 1,500 feet of moorage in a side-tie arrangement in the marina. All of the moorage choices are firstcome-first-served, with a maximum stay of three nights.

Linda standing at the ready on Blake Island.

WHAT IS HOSTING ALL ABOUT?

To be a marina host, State Parks requires you to have some experience with boating and marina operations. The very efficient Volunteers Office suggested that all adult companions who would be present during our host week also sign up — during busy times, having two hosts really helps.

We sent in our application forms, and were backgroundchecked and fingerprinted. When accepted, we were given the contact number for Blake Island’s senior park ranger, Ranger Paul. He gave us a great description of the duties and how things worked. At Blake, the intent is to have hosts onsite for one-week intervals (typically Monday to Monday) from May through September, with other weeks of the year staffed during holiday periods.

A few weeks before we were scheduled to host, we decided to cruise over to Blake Island for a few nights, where we learned about the host duties from long-time volunteers Tom and Shirley. They were very kind and it really made our learning curve easier as we jumped into the flow as hosts ourselves.

When our hosting week came, we loaded up the boat and departed early from Harbor Island. It was the start of Seafair week, and we needed to avoid the boat parade on Elliott Bay. Faster Horses was full of potable water, fuel, and provisions — the boat was as heavy as it has ever been. I rolled the jib out and we sailed from Duwamish Head to our state park home for the week. We arrived with no issues, and got the boat settled for a good stay with power cords and shade tarps deployed. At Blake, there is a designated marina spot with a power hookup for the host’s boat.

The ranger on duty gave us a brief on the responsibilities, and we were given a volunteer information binder and vests that identified us as park volunteers. Like at the land-based parks, our duties were to assist the rangers and staff by handling questions, giving advice, reminding visitors of rules, and assisting in registration and attendance counts. Rangers Paul and Steven live on the island full-time during their work weeks and will resolve any issues that the hosts need assistance with. In general, their hands are full managing the campground, trails, wildlife, facilities, and being out on the water to patrol the mooring buoys. The state asks that hosts wear PFDs while on duty out on the docks, just like they require of their employees. Linda and I wore lightweight inflatable PFDs that were comfortable over the mesh volunteer vests, even in the hot weather.

HOSTS ON DUTY

Hosts are on duty during the busy times at the marina — late morning through late afternoon. One of the marina host’s main roles is to keep track of the lengths of the open spaces at the docks, to advise the skipper which float to head for, and to prevent boats wandering around looking for a spot in the tight marina space. There are white paint marks along the toe rails at 5 foot intervals. This helps, but then the host has to estimate the length of the boat coming in, which is a bit harder to do. So, we tried to ask the incoming captains what the length overall was for their vessel as they were arriving. The host is there for advice and counsel; the decisions of if and where to moor are ultimately the responsibility and choice of the skipper.

From the deck of our boat at the host dock, we could see boats coming into the narrow entrance channel, and would then walk out to the end of the float to communicate with the incoming boat. This worked well during slow times. When things got busier, Linda and I found it easiest to use walkie-talkies — she stood on the shore bluff atop the marina and would alert me to incoming boats and available lengths of tie-ups (or that the marina was full); I would be down at the end of the float closest to the channel entrance communicating with the skippers. When boats were tying up, we would occasionally assist by holding dock lines or even advising less experienced boaters. As a rule, however, State Parks asks volunteers not to handle or tie-up visiting boats.

We would remind incoming boaters of the payment scheme and location of the pay stations, the need for dogs to be on leash at all times when off a boat, and the need to close all windows and hatches when ashore due to the presence of raccoons who have learned to find food inside boats.

Visitors’ boat sizes varied from kayaks up to 50-60 foot yachts. Boaters’ skills ranged from brand new members of shared boat clubs to highly experienced ocean-going licensed captains.

Many smaller boats come for the day, while others are hoping to spend a few nights. Some come in to use the 30-minute loading/unloading zone to ferry campers and camping equipment; and enforcing the time limit was also among our responsibilities as hosts. There's a rule that one person is to stay with the boat while docked in this zone, but it's not a hard rule, as we could only advise visitors. Truly enforcing rules is the rangers' domain. All of the camping gear and supplies comes and goes through the marina, up a gangway, and on to the campgrounds about a quarter mile away over dirt paths. The

Moorage space can be tight on busy days.

park has two hand carts and a wheelbarrow to move equipment. However you’re moving the gear, it is much easier at high tide! Most folks were very respectful of the time limit, but a few wandered onto the island and didn’t return in a timely manner. Incidentally, the loading zone was even used by a runabout with worries of an engine cooling problem.

While small runabouts could often be jigsaw-puzzled in, it was hard to find enough lineal feet for larger boats. When we did find room for a large yacht, the modern automated docking aids were impressive to watch — sensing the dock location and driving the bow and stern thrusters accordingly. Blake Island’s marina design is a parallel parking scheme, which is not great for some boats and operators, especially sailboats and powerboats without bow thrusters on windy days. A typical summertime north wind on Blake turns eastward when it hits the north face of the island, and gets directed across the marina, tending to blow boats away from the east sides of the floats. When this happens, don’t panic, just back out and try it again.

In the early evening, the marina hosts walk through the marina to take attendance for the ranger, make sure each overnighting boat has a posted pay slip, and that those with a State Moorage Pass have paid for power. All the while, we checked dock lines and answered questions from any of the boaters.

OUR WEEK AS HOSTS

On Tuesday, our first full day as hosts, we were immediately busy greeting and sending arriving boats on to empty spots along the dock floats. As the day wore on, we began to find our rhythm — Linda was quicker to get to the far docks to share the rules, raccoon warnings, and park info; while I looped back to the next boat coming in the channel. Just walking back and forth on the docks led to a lot of mileage – over 10,000 steps every day of our week at Blake Island. From time to time, while I was busy with one boat, another would come in. Other boaters were super helpful lending a hand with the newcomers.

Thursday was a reasonably quiet day in the marina compared to the three days before, and the weekend days brought crowds that were full-on all day and into the evening. Luckily by that time, we were into a routine. Since check-out time is 1:00 p.m., many boats start leaving around then, and new boats start arriving. The peak busy time for a marina host guiding boats into empty spots seems to be 11:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. On the busiest days, the marina was full by 2:00 p.m. — then the waving off began.

A host may tell you the marina is full when you, the boat captain, can see smaller open spots. The host is telling you that the marina is full for your length of the boat. One or two smaller boats may get in later. Just about all the captains were polite when told we were full. One or two boats headed over to the row of pilings on the north side of the inner harbor and tied up — mooring on the pilings is a bit more inconvenient as the captain and crews have to monitor their lines with the changing tides, and also dinghy in to come ashore to pay fees.

On a few days, we got up with the sun to do some hiking before heading out on the floats to meet the arriving boaters in the late morning. In the evenings, we watched the sunset behind the Olympics, and then it quickly got very dark and quiet.

One great part of being a Marina Host was talking with people from around the world who are visiting or working in the Seattle area, having their first trip to Blake. Just during our week, we had boats with Australian, Norwegian, and Nigerian visitors who heard about Blake and came to explore. And of course, many Canadian friends arrive, cruising down from British Columbia.

Most of our days at Blake were quite hot, and it was great to have Faster Horses there so we could stay hydrated and relax in the shade when time allowed. We brought along a tiny portable ice machine and it did a really nice job making little ice cubes for drinks.

For us, this was the longest stay on the boat away from resupplies, and the trip was a good test of logistics. Our 33

Aerial view of an unusually empty Blake Island Marina.

gallon potable water tank went bingo toward the end of the week, but I had a 6 gallon mule up on deck that saw us through. Our holding tank made it the entire time, but we had made a note to use the park facilities as often as possible. With the portable ice maker, the cold box stored perishables just fine.

It was a great week at Blake volunteering as hosts. We came away with a real admiration for Rangers Paul and Steven, the staff, and all that the State Parks system does to support Blake Island. If you’re interested in becoming a Marine State Park Host, learn more at: www.parks.wa.gov/262/Volunteer-Program

Neal and Linda Chism are long time Seattle residents who get out on the water as often as possible. Neal is a retired aerospace engineer, and Linda is still on the job at Alaska Airlines.

Blake Island Tips and Information

• Blake is definitely a popular place, and weekends are busiest by far. Plan ahead and have a backup plan of where to go if the marina is full or the weather suddenly turns foul. Sometimes, you just have to take a chance — there is no webcam, there are no radios to call ahead.

• One tactic to try to get a spot is mooring just outside the channel on a mooring ball, and then watching for a boat your size to leave the marina.

• At present, there is a study going on to improve/renovate the Marina moorage, which was installed in 1975 and is due for a redesign.

• Tillicum Village cultural center, salmon dinners, and the tour boat service to Blake are now on a ‘pause’ after Argosy ended their relationship as a Parks concessionaire in the spring of 2022. State Parks is searching for a new concessionaire and intends to carry on the Suquamish Tribe’s involvement in future plans.

• The pumpout station at Blake is out of service with no plans for it to return. Also, there is no garbage disposal on the island, it is “pack it in, pack it out.”

• In the 30-minute loading zone, one adult has to stay with the boat at all times in case it has to be moved.

• Rangers Paul and Steven run a tight ship on Blake and it was great to work as hosts with them. They were actively enforcing rules for visitors who tried to burn driftwood, made noise overnight, didn’t pay, and for parents that didn’t have PFDs on young ones. They fined one visitor whose dogs were still off-leash after a warning.

A moderatly busy day at Blake Island Marina.

The ornate front doors at Tillicum Village cultural center.

BABY ON BOARD

by Lauren Upham

The first time we took Vela to our J/40 Velella, she was just two-anda-half weeks old. We pulled up to the Point Roberts border crossing. “Just the two of you?” the border officer asked.

“And our daughter,” Ches said, passing the border officer her birth certificate. He rolled down the back window so the officer could see Vela in her car seat.

Our daughter… It is still surreal to me that I have a daughter, I am a mom, and Ches is a dad. She was born on July 12th and is named after the constellation Vela

(pronounced VAY-la) that is part of the Argo Navis collection of constellations. Argo is the ship in the ancient Greek myth where Jason and the Argonauts search for the Golden Fleece. Vela, the sail, combines with two other constellations (Carina, the keel, and Puppis, the poop deck) to make up the ship.

By the time she was six weeks old, Vela had spent 10 nights with us aboard Velella, three of which were at anchor. Before one of our trips to the boat, my friend Mara asked me if going sailing with Vela was relaxing or stressful. If you had

asked me this question before Vela was born, I would have probably answered, “Stressful.” A lot of my trepidation stemmed from the unknown; we had no idea, and no way to predict, what our child would be like. Maybe she would cry a lot, maybe she wouldn’t let me set her down, maybe she wouldn’t like sleeping in a different place at night.

Luckily, none of my concerns manifested into reality (except for the rare occasion that she really doesn’t want to be set down, but that’s why they invented baby carriers). We eased into

things by deciding just to go down to the boat and stay at the dock. That way, if things went horribly, we could just go straight home. We packed up all Vela’s gear, trying to anticipate which things would be helpful and which would take up too much space.

It was busy down at the marina and we ran into lots of our dock neighbors as we hauled all our supplies to the boat. Everyone was excited to meet our new arrival and asked if we were taking her sailing. We laughed and explained that this was just a trial run to see how things went, but soon! We have always felt at home in the sailing community, swapping cruising stories and trading tips for boat projects. We have met such interesting and friendly people, building friendships that we will value forever. Soon, Vela will be hearing the stories, eventually telling some of her own, and finding her place among her fellow sailors.

After spending four nights at the dock and escaping the heat wave back in Vancouver, we had settled into a routine, created new systems for meeting Vela’s needs, and were navigating our new job as parents. We started changing diapers on the floor of the salon after she peed on the settee cushions during a diaper change. She slept in her bassinet set up on the counter in the galley so our friendly but curious golden retriever, Laska, couldn’t pester her. She slept better overnight, and so did we, with the gentle sea breeze blowing in the hatches. Ches carried her around the deck and showed her the lines and pointed out birds flying by. Being able to focus on our new little family in such close quarters brought us closer and we bonded over

We were proud of ourselves for continuing to seek adventure, even if it was a bit more challenging with a baby in tow.

The author, Vela, and Laska soak in some family time aboard their J/40.

A bassinet makes a comfortable sea berth.

the challenges we overcame together.

Ches needed to get back home so he could get some work done; but it was still hot, so three days later we were back at Velella. This time we were ready to take Vela for her first sail. Again, we had a carload of supplies, mostly for Vela, but we had edited things a bit based on what we learned from our last trip. For instance, we didn’t end up needing her lounger pillow and her bassinet, but we 100% needed more clothes and burp cloths.

We lashed Vela’s bassinet into the cockpit and set her down so we could cast off from the dock. I was extremely happy to not be pregnant anymore as I tossed the dock lines onto the deck while I pushed off, stepped aboard, and swung my legs over the lifelines. We planned to head to Sucia Island in the San Juan Islands. It is one of the closest islands in the San Juans to Point Roberts, and massive Echo Bay on the southeast side of the horseshoe-shaped island always has space for one more.

Sucia was a safe choice for Vela’s first sail given the short distance, but it is

also one of our favorite spots. The island is a Marine State Park with campsites and walking trails on shore, and will no doubt be a familiar destination for many 48° North readers. On various occasions, we have anchored in Shallow Bay (best for sunsets), Ewing Cove (good spot if you can snag an open mooring, with easy access to shore and more seclusion than Echo Bay), Fox Cove (good lunch stop, can get some strong current, we have never spent the night here), and of course, Echo Bay, where we would be going this visit. There are two more coves with park mooring that we have yet to explore: Fossil Bay has moorings as well as a dock and Snoring Bay has a couple moorings tucked in it. All the anchorages have park-maintained moorings (pay on shore or purchase an annual pass from Washington State Parks), but most also have space to anchor. “Sucia” means dirty or foul in Spanish and refers to the numerous rocks and reefs around the island, so use caution when navigating near the island and when entering anchorages.

As we motored out of the harbor, Vela

fell asleep almost immediately, the gentle rumble of the engine and motion of the boat putting her to sleep. We hoisted the sails and enjoyed a beautiful downwind sail in about 10 knots of breeze. With a blanket clipped to the dodger to keep her out of the sun, Vela lay in her bassinet with her arms up next to her head to brace herself as we rocked and rolled in the waves. The edge of her bassinet worked like a lee cloth, and she eventually ended up nestled in against the edge when we started to heel. We checked on her constantly, making sure she wasn’t too hot or too cold, watching to see if she was waking up or if she was hungry, but she slept soundly the entire way to the anchorage.

Echo Bay, as expected, was full of boats of all shapes and sizes. We tucked in up by some of the boats on the park moorings that line the head of the bay. I hoped none of our neighbors would be too annoyed by Vela’s crying in the middle of the night. With the sunshade rigged up over the cockpit and Vela enjoying a bottle, we congratulated ourselves, and Vela, on a job well done. We were proud of ourselves for continuing to seek adventure, even if it was a bit more challenging with a baby in tow.

The trip home the next day went just as smoothly, giving us the confidence to plan more cruising trips with Vela. Since then, we took her out for two more quick jaunts to Sucia — once with my in-laws and again with a friend who was visiting from Portland. It was great having the

Soon, Vela will be hearing the stories, eventually telling some of her own, and finding her place among her fellow sailors.

Velella at anchor off Sucia Island.

A new sailor enjoying the motion under way.

extra hands for either pulling lines or holding Vela, but after that first trip, we knew we would be able to handle it all on our own.

Since Ches and I both grew up sailing, we are thrilled to be able to provide the same opportunity for Vela, especially here in the PNW, where the cruising grounds and sea life are so spectacular.

We can’t wait for the first time she sees a breaching whale or dolphins swimming by our bow, or the first time she revels in the solitude of a remote anchorage all to ourselves. Our dreams are filled with trips to Alaska, a Pacific loop, and (maybe ambitiously while juggling our careers) a circumnavigation — one can hope. For now, short trips to the San Juan and Gulf

islands are perfect for this new phase. No matter where we are headed, it is such a joy to be able to explore the amazing Salish Sea as a family.

Lauren Upham and her husband Ches call Vancouver, BC home. They cruise frequently on their J/40 Velella with their daughter, Vela and golden retriever, Laska.

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A

LAKE CHELAN REGATTA

by Rachel Voropayev

When we moved from Santa Cruz to Lake Chelan late last year, we were thrilled to find the Lake Chelan Sailing Association (LCSA). For $40 per year and four hours of volunteer work, our little family could make use of the many club boats that are conveniently located at the Lakeside Marina.

It took us a while to figure out that there would be no sailing until June when the lake level comes up enough to launch the boats. When we first met Russ Jones at the boat check-out in late May, we were amazed at how laid back and inviting the whole scene was — nothing to sign, no politics, just good old sailing. That’s when he told us about the one and only regatta that LCSA holds each year, the weekend after Labor Day. As people who were used to racing almost every weekend, we knew we had to be there.

Lake Chelan is a heavenly destination with the Cascades in the background, crystal clear waters, hills of fresh fruit, and a quiet little town full of charm. Once Labor Day passes, the power boats, jet skis, flotillas, and people in general seem to disappear, making way for sailboats to enjoy the lake wake and traffic free.

When everyone started showing up on Friday to launch, they were greeted by Russ, who diligently applies for the event permit every year and, by some miracle, gets the city to waive launch and parking fees for all the sailors. It was great to see the variety of boats including Moore 24s, Tasars, Flying Scots, Capris, San Juans, and a Buccaneer. A couple local people also

took out the club Ranger 16 and Hunter 216. All in all, 19 boats showed up for this event, which was definitely more than we were expecting.

Russ and his wife, Debbie, are the most hospitable people you could ever meet — letting sailors camp out on their nut farm on top of the Chelan River Gorge. It was awesome to see so many tents set up underneath big chestnut trees on plush green grass. The night was spent playing music, enjoying beverages, and getting to know each other off the water.

On the water, there was a great showing from people of all ages — even the famous sailing doggie, Dakota, and one-year old baby Andrei. The marks were fixed going up and down the lake and the start/finish line was on either side of the Race Committee, the biggest sailboat on the lake, Wild Cider. We wondered how this was going to work out, but because of all the changes in wind direction, it was by far the easiest way for the committee to get as many races in as they did.

The wind here, which is usually shifty and variable, really allowed sailors to show their skills, as almost every race presented a different set of challenges. We were lucky, winds were a steady 6-8 knots with an occasional 10-knot puff on Saturday (great breeze by Lake Chelan standards). The race committee did an amazing job getting five races in — I only remember doing that many races in one day in the Laser fleet back in California. Some boats seemed to catch magic puffs and others somehow made big gains in the shifts coming off the

The Bradens' Moore 24, More Uff Da

Moore 24 sailors gather post-race.

The crew aboard the author's Moore 24, Skosh, including baby Andrei.

hills. It made for some very competitive and fun sailing with the Corinthian spirit high and great sportsmanship all around. By the end of the day, we were ready to jump in the water for a nice swim and then crack a cold one.

Sunday was not what we were hoping for, but we all still made the best of it — getting one race off before calling it a day. Most of the boats that attended were road warriors and welcomed the extra time to get their boats ready for departure.

This fun-focused regatta is not a points race for most classes, although the San Juans have a perpetual trophy for this event. Protests were discouraged — with friendly conversation, or water balloons and water guns, to help guide less experienced

sailors. All of the competitors showed an abundance of gratitude to their fellow sailors, race committee, and the Jones family for their hospitality and commitment to this great annual regatta.

The funniest comment of the weekend goes to the Flying Scot who managed to stay up with us Moores on Sunday and said, “I can’t believe a boat that slow makes it to Hawaii!” as he came up behind us. We all shared a chuckle and knew that while our boats may not be the same, we were all here for the same reason; to share a fun weekend of sailing on beautiful Lake Chelan.

Come join us next year for LCSA’s 50th Annual Sailing Regatta! Stay tuned at www.sailchelan.com

THUNDERBIRD WEST COAST CHAMPIONSHIPS

by Ben Braden

There is something about that sulfury aroma of kelp-infused varnish, teak, and weed that just says Port Townsend. And what sailboat but the Thunderbird appears in the mind’s eye when visualizing a pleasant reach along the Port Townsend waterfront?

Labor Day Weekend brought out 12 of these iconic boats designed by the son of a Pacific Northwest shipwright, Ben Seaborn, for the Douglas Fir Plywood Manufacturing Company of Tacoma, Washington, back in 1958. Twelve plywood and fiberglass versions — some even with the “cruising” deck — competed Saturday, September 3 and Sunday, September 4 for the West Coast Championships of the Thunderbird International (yes, international) Class Association.

We got a text about a week before the event from a friend who is a recent transplant from California to the PNW. Our friend, Victoria Fennell, had been offered a loaner boat and asked if my wife Jennifer and I wanted to join her for some one-design racing? Well, our first response was “we” are three, as our dog Dakota always races with us. To which she responded, “Let me check with the owner, Ken Lane. Do you know him?”

After a good belly laugh we responded yes, Ben has known Ken for something like 30 years at Port Madison Yacht Club and, more importantly, Ken knows Dakota! The sailing world is truly small, especially when you are talking about sailors that know what a T-bird is, let alone cut their teeth aboard them. I have so many memories of racing these great boats, rebuilding them in my dad’s shop, cruising them around Puget Sound. Truly it’s one of the most perfect designs for Pacific Northwest waters. No, they don’t plane. No, they’re not easy to get around on with their narrow side decks. But yes, they do make you smile ear to ear and oh my are there some great sailors on these boats!

I was expecting 5 or 6 boats and a drifter regatta. Maybe a bunch of good napping and some beers on the water. Man, I couldn’t have been more wrong! We arrived on the ferry from Whidbey Island early Saturday morning and had time for coffee and some jalapeno and cheese scones (amazing) before walking out the long linear dock at Boat Haven to find the boat. “It’ll be easy to find – it’s the blue one!” Yep, blue T-bird spotted, we

walked past the transom and learned our loaner was Blew Bird — a totally appropriate name.

Then we climbed aboard and discovered, YES, she’s fiberglass! You long tooth T-bird sailors out there know why I was excited — round corners! I was expecting an old woody with its hard edges everywhere and I couldn’t have been more delighted with what we found. Blew Bird had been built by Booth in Victoria, British Columbia, then sent to the East Coast and was brought back west eventually by Piper Dunlap and purchased by Ken Lane this past March. Ken did some rigging upgrades, but was distracted the weekend before the regatta with the purchase of Predator — a true race T-bird. And now I know why we got the loaner.

So, we had the sails that came with Predator, and Predator had a brand-new set of sails Ken had purchased for Blew Bird. Seemed fair to me, but nobody knew what the sails that came with Predator looked like. We went out early, there was actually a good 6-plus knots of wind and we tried out the main. It looked good. We put up the laminate genoa, pulled it in, and all three of us said “I hope there is something better.” Thankfully, the dacron genoa we put up next looked much better. We checked the leads, threw in a few tacks to weather to learn the choreography of the boat and pop the chute for a run back to the starting area. It was an amazing looking spinnaker – we were lucky.

The author and crew, ready to race.

I’m used to having big windows in my genoa, and after this weekend I know how much I enjoy them. Our genoa had no windows so I set up out of the way of the fleet before the start and came into the boat at the last minute and wouldn’t you know it there was a boat right there near the committee boat in the exact spot where I wanted to be. I pushed around his transom with speed to his leeward side, yelled coming up to them, and then looked over and saw Ken Lane looking back at me. Oops! Sorry Ken… thanks for lending us the boat but, ehm… you are over early.

Jennifer winched hard on these big-to-us sails, and we were off to the weather mark. Man were we off the pace. I looked at the crew and said, “How do you sail these things?” We rounded deep in the pack, popped the chute on a jibe set and focused on tactics, wind, and current. We got back into things until we got to the next windward mark and did another perfect jibe set… except this time the chute went up and immediately came lightly down into the water — without the halyard.

We poled the jib out and had just enough of a lead on the next boat to finish inches in front of them to take sixth on our first race. While we patiently (ok, anxiously) sailed downwind wing-on-wing watching the spinnakers catch up, Victoria went to work trying to find a bosun’s chair. Finding none aboard, it was time to fabricate a harness out of the spare jib halyard. I can’t tell you how many laughs and bad comments we had during this process. Thankfully for Victoria we finished, sailed by Ken to ask where his bosun’s chair was, and he pulled one out of Predator and tossed it over.

Day saved, it was time to figure out how to make this hardchined wonder go to weather. How we were doing it that first race wasn’t right, so I dug back in my memory and remembered all those panel sails we had back then and what they looked like. Matching my memory worked. We couldn’t point with the best of them, but we had speed. Now we were part of this regatta and could learn the other boats and how to sail against them.

Kuma San was our challenger in the second race. We simply couldn’t point with them, but we kept them in range for a second place finish. Right there on our heels was Raptor though, and by race three they were still there – these guys were fast! By races 4 and 5 Raptor was unstoppable, and we realized that we should be focusing on Corvo, Owl, and Predator instead. They sailed amazingly fast and gave us all a great show both days.

By Saturday’s end, we couldn’t believe our luck. To have great wind on a day that was forecast to be a drifter. To have this amazingly well set-up boat loaned to us. To be sailing in one of the most truly amazing venues our area has to offer. And to be tied for second place against what we learned all day were very well sailed boats. We couldn’t have been happier! At the same time, we realized that after five races on a new-to-us boat with our crew of three, we were worn out — and were all asleep by 9.

Sunday dawned with a little rain and the forecast 6 to 13 turned into a solid 15 to 20 out of the south. Coming over Marrowstone Island and across the sand spit, the beat to the weather mark was a tactician’s dream — if you happen to like reading each puff angle and current lane for an entire onedesign beat, that is. We struggled a bit in the first race and were envious of the boats with four crew, not just for weight on the

rail but for those extra hands. We were especially envious of those boats that remembered to rig their boats right that morning. Imagine this, sailing into the weather mark unsure if you are going to hoist the chute or not due to the strong winds and short downwind leg. Foredeck looks at you and asks, “What do you want me to do?” You respond, “Just pretend you are going to hoist, and we’ll go from there,” while thinking they will get everything ready but not hoist. We rounded the mark and looked forward to see the foredeck truly “pretending” to set up the hoist. I thought the pole was stuck on its boom cradle. Nope, it was just in pretend position. Eventually, we did hoist the chute and discovered that we hadn’t run the sheets through the twingers. Wow, did that chute sky up high before the foredeck started hanging from the pole. “We have to jibe — think you can do that?” Victoria got it done, as she always does, but man was there some good comedy. First races of the day appeared to be tough on us.

With that out of the way, we got down to business and focused on sailing our own race as fast and smooth as we could. The small jib we had was almost new and the boat was going like crazy to weather. We weren’t as fast as Owl, Corvo, Predator, and Raptor, but we felt good with it and started to focus again on what we were doing well. Sailing in clean air and trying to read the water, we finished the day on a 2,1,3. Congratulations to Raptor on the win, and thank you Ken for loaning the boat!

I can’t remember the last time I sailed such a competitive regatta against so many amazingly Corinthian sailors. I’ve sadly become used to saying the “P” word and putting up that red hanky before another boat acknowledges a foul and does turns. Not in the Thunderbird fleet. The sailors, men and women alike, are in it together and are enjoying these great old designs in the way they deserve — sailing them hard, giving them nicks and scratches, and creating those amazing memories people with a sailing lifestyle enjoy. Thunderbird sailing is not a sport, it’s a way of life.

Fashioning a harness to try and retrieve the skyed halyard.

by Stephanie Arnold

Bellingham’s PITCH gave sailboat racers exactly what they’d hope for over Labor Day Weekend.

PITCH has been a favorite Labor Day weekend regatta in the North Sound for nearly 50 years and is Bellingham Yacht Club’s premier event in the North Sound Party Circuit. Predating PHRF, its name harkens back to the tonnage days when it was the Pacific International Tonnage Championships. Its slogan, “Come for the wind, stay for the party” was certainly on point this year!

In addition to being a great regatta, this year’s event served as a Pacific Coast Championship for a growing J/70 fleet, with 11 boats from California, Oregon, and Washington. The winner earned a slot at the 2023 J/70 World Championship. In addition to the J/70s, 16 other boats registered across three PHRF divisions and a non-flying sails (NFS) division with boats coming from Seattle, Whidbey Island, Anacortes, and Orcas Island.

The party got started Friday as racers arrived and were

greeted warmly with welcoming smiles, complimentary BBQ and beer, and live music. The clubhouse was hopping with everyone enjoying themselves, catching up with friends, and sharing stories.

With a solid breeze forecast of 15-20 knots out of the south, Saturday’s starting time was moved up to 10:30 a.m. to maximize racing opportunities. The wind was fairly consistent throughout the day with Principal Race Officer (PRO) Charley Rathkopf getting five races off for all fleets. A mild chop and sustained breeze kept boats powered up all day. After racing, the party got going again as BYC welcomed competitors back to the bar with live music by Yogoman and dinner by Back East BBQ. All this made for seriously happy sailors.

Sunday’s forecasts were variable with the consensus being that the breeze may die off in the afternoon. Our start time was again moved up to 10:30 a.m. As it turned out, we were again treated to a breeze-on day with 10-15 knots out of the south.

RACING

Since we were racing our J/70, Aha!, I can mainly report on the happenings in our fleet. It was fun and highly competitive. It’s always a good time with the start line the right size and a fleet of 11 boats vying for position and a spot in the first row. We had good starts on Aha! except for one when we were over early, but had space to do a whoop-de-do immediate 360 so we limited our losses.

Despite terrific conditions, the days were different from a racing perspective. Saturday’s consistent breeze meant that the most practiced teams did well, and starts and boat speed were paramount. Sunday brought bigger shifts and pressure variations, and was more of a tactician’s day. On both days, there was enough breeze that crew weight played a role — we sailed with three on Saturday and four on Sunday, and our results improved on the second day.

The fleet was tight, and there were a number of pinwheel roundings with some occasionally raised voices, but the J/70 fleet is very respectful and we have a motto “no boats touch.” Our coach, Ron Rosenberg is constantly reminding us to be looking 10-15 boat lengths ahead to ensure we don’t position ourselves in a bad spot for a rounding.

A special highlight for our team on Aha! was in the last race when a big left shift laddered us up to 4th place. Those who anticipated the shift (or got lucky) made out well. Thanks to the good breeze, we got four races off on Sunday — a total of nine for the weekend.

RESULTS

In Division 1, Vitesse won 1st place, followed by Freja in 2nd place, and Still Hitched in 3rd place. Division 2 winners were Flying Circus in 1st, Purple Martin in 2nd, and Rubicon in 3rd place. In Division 3, Juan Solo took 1st place, with Aquavit taking 2nd and Obi Juan taking 3rd place. Greg Zimmerman on Wildfire won the NFS division.

The J/70 division was won by California competitor Orange You Glad, who was also crowned the 2022 Pacific Coast Champion. Behind 1st by just one point, Taz took 2nd place, followed by Awkward Turtle in 3rd place.

Orcas Island Yacht Club was awarded the Kelly O’Neil Cup for the best overall team of boats from the same yacht club. This award was established in 2005 to honor Kelly O’Neil Henson (1957-2004). A much-beloved sailing photographer and boating enthusiast, her boat Smile was a fixture at local and international sailing events. Her photographs regularly appeared in 48° North and other sailing publications.

Thanks to BYC Sail Fleet Captain Sarah Drotning, the BYC Race Committee, and all the many volunteers who made PITCH such an amazing event!

Photos by Arden Rathkopf.

Kai Vurno’s J/70 Smoke and Mirrors puts in a jibe.

In addition to the J/70s, there were three PHRF Flying Sails fleets and one Non-Flying Sails class.

It’s always a good time with the start line the right size and a fleet of 11 boats vying for position and a spot in the first row.

by John Coyne

For the uninitiated, the Pink Boat Regatta would appear to be hundreds of people, on dozens of boats, who just love to wear pink. Boats dressed up in pink skirting, flying pink flags, and even some with giant pink spinnakers create a “sea” of pink across the water and on land.

Yet for many 48° North readers, or anyone who has been around the sailing scene over the last decade, the Pink Boat Regatta has become the healthy blend of philanthropy, sailboat racing, and of course, a great party! Started in 2012 by local sailor Ashley Bell, whose mother was undergoing treatment for breast cancer, the Pink Boat Regatta was formed as a way to “do her part” — combining her love of sailing and the urgent need to help find a cure.

Ashley moved on from Pink Boat management in 2020, but the allvolunteer board of the Pink Boat Regatta carries on the mission: to raise vital funds for breast cancer research through sailing, “because that’s what we do.”

One hundred percent of the Pink Boat Regatta’s net proceeds are donated each year to the Breast Cancer Research Foundation (BCRF). Pink Boat Regattas now take place in Bellingham, Seattle, and Tacoma.

While the pandemic slowed things down a bit in the sailing world, the Pink Boat Regatta did its best to still raise funds. In 2020, sailors gathered on Zoom, where they told stories (lies?) of sailing greatness, and donated just under $10,000 to BCRF. It was a valiant effort for sure. Then in 2021 while social distancing, the three regattas raised $110,000 to donate to BCRF. What a comeback! This year, in its 10th year, the Pink Boat Regatta sailors have united once again, to raise funds for this most important cause.

In each of its three venues, the Pink Boat Regatta consists of a “fun race” where competitors form a team to raise funds all year, leading up to the regattas themselves. They race around the buoys for three hours, and then come back to party. Awards are given for the most PINK BOAT REGATTA 2022

The volunteer committee at Seattle's Pink Boat Regatta, flying their colors in support.

The sailing is great, and the cause is important, but the Pink Boat parties are special too!

fundraising combined with the number of buoys rounded. Special awards include Pinkest Boat and Overall Female Skipper. Business sponsors include Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center (formerly known as SCCA), Potelco, Valholl Brewery, Helly Hansen, Slayton South Sound Homz, Seattle Gummy, Ballard Sails, Guardian Roofing, CSR Marine, Port of Bellingham, Fisheries Supply, and Race Week PNW. These sponsors represent businesses all over Puget Sound, giving money and/or inkind donations, to allow the Pink Boat Regatta to keep expenses low — which maximizes proceeds given to BCRF. In addition to the sponsors, many other local businesses and individuals donated time, gifts, and money to help the cause in raffles and auctions.

ashore to celebrate, remember, and raise money for such a great cause.

Then, on September 10, sailors in Seattle invaded Shilshole Bay Marina to show their support. Sailors, spectators, and even some of the folks just walking by gave generously this year. In all, 16 boats, representing three classes, raced around the buoys in the sporty wind conditions. The team on Sea Elegans won Pinkest Boat, while Dulcinea raised the most funds with $10,001.47 donated to their campaign. Following the race, everyone celebrated at the marina with live music, food trucks, raffles, auctions, and great camaraderie just outside the Corinthian Yacht Club of Seattle’s clubhouse. Awards were given, and a great time was had by all. The coveted raffle prize this year was a set of very large pink fenders, among other items.

The Regatta series kicked off in Bellingham on August 27. It was a fun, windy, and very pink day of sailboat racing on Bellingham Bay. There were 10 teams racing around the buoys with Team Boobicon winning Pinkest Boat. Team Dash Dot Dot Dash won the most funds raised, with $9,909.00 donated to their campaign.

Bellingham Yacht Club opened their doors to host the event with a live band, appetizers, and drinks to follow the racing. For the live auction, Stephanie Campbell and Stephanie Arnold auctioned themselves for one day, offering to go sailing, wax a boat, or even do yard work for the highest bidder. Both Stephanies were happy to donate their time to help someone and to raise money for breast cancer research. It was a perfect pink day on the water and

The Regatta series concluded this year on September 17 in Tacoma. Sailors from the south end and beyond come to Tacoma’s historic waterfront to race, raise money, and play. Corinthian Yacht Club of Tacoma, the sponsor partner for this race, put together a great course and the wind didn’t disappoint! The folks dining at the restaurants along Ruston Way got a great show, with 16 boats on course for 3 hours! Tacoma showed up BIG with raffle items, auctions and continued donations at the awards party right until the very end. The Grace E team took home the award for Pinkest Boat, and Hope Floats brought home the award for most funds raised, with $11,459.56 donated to their campaign. The gracious party host, Rock the Dock Pub and Grill, took great care of the partygoers. The coveted raffle prize this year was a $400 gift card from our friends and sponsor at Helly Hansen.

The Pink Boat Regatta continues to bring strong donations for BCRF, year after year. The volunteers and sponsors really pull this whole thing together, with many of them being members of the allvolunteer board of directors. Attendees at each event expressed their gratitude and said that they could not wait until next year. Everyone involved hopes that we won’t need the Pink Boat Regatta in the future; but until we don’t, we will continue our efforts!

For more information, visit www.pinkboatregatta.org

Stephanie Campbell and John Stocklass.

Jeanneau 30, Amoretto

J/99, Dash

CLASSIFIEDS

‘91 SCHOCK 35 SAILBOAT

Quality racer/cruiser. Well maintained, upgraded. Bottom foils faired/painted 2018. Diesel htr, hot water, refer/freezer. Furuno Navnet chart plotter GPS, AIS. Digital charts Vancouver Is. to Oregon. Radar, autopilot. Dodger + Bimini covers. Perkins M30 eng. Flexifold 3 blade prop. Full set sails w/ cruising genaker. Lying Brownsville.

» Contact John Burton • (360) 731-2461

• Jcburtonclan@gmail.com

• $25,000

1959 LEE LION 35' SAILBOAT Yanmar 3GM30F. September 2nd*: https://bit.ly/3Sb7ob0 ianbwright@gmail.com $24,900

HOME BUILT LONG ISLAND SHARPIE 24’

…BUT, this 36' Francis Herreshoff ketch (“Nereia” design) is already in Florida and one overnight sail away from

ALERION EXPRESS 28

Beautiful 2008 Alerion 28, “Alegria”, meticulously maintained, original owner, Flag Blue hull/Beige nonskid. All standard equipment plus Hoyt Jib Boom, varnished interior/exterior, sink, marine head, swim ladder, bow and stern pulpits with double lifelines, shorepower, second battery, upgraded winches, goldleaf name, etc. Located Pt. Richmond, CA

» Contact Mike • lassto22@comcast.net

Home built by my brother-in-law in 2001. All marine plywood on the exterior covered with fiberglass. Cabin roof redone last year. Shoal draft boat that’s a cat catch rig designed by Bruce Kirby. Sails are basically brand new. Tohatsu motor has barely been used. Rebuilt carburetor two years ago. Trailer included.

» Contact Janiece Brown

• flylady21@icloud.com

• (503) 720-0096

• $12,500

• $109,000

1978 NORTH SEA 34 PILOTHOUSE

Comfortable cruiser and NW veteran. Dual helms. Yanmar3GM 30 engine with Autoprop 2- 30 gal aluminum fuel tanks. Pressure hot and cold H20, propane oven, heater. engine heat, Newer 130% Genoa & Harken furling system. Main sail in good condition. Bruce anchor manual windlass. Bottom sider cockpit cushions. Radar & GPS. Moorage available.

» Contact Douglas W. Davidson • (425) 864-1955

• ddavidson@pumptechnw.com

• $35,000 IS COMING!

CABO RICO 38

Due to health issues and aging crew, I reluctantly am selling my boat of 30 years. You will not find a better cruising sailboat. The boat is located in the Pacific Northwest, a rare find on the west coast. Contact me via email for specification sheet/pictures or answer any questions.

» Contact George P Leonnig

• 1(503) 707-6062

• moctobi@gmail.com • $85,000

1983 PASSPORT 40

World Capable Cruiser. Ready to take you cruising.

Cutter Rigged. Oversized rigging and 2 large extra cockpit wenches. Large sail inventory, VHF, Icom HF, GPS, Aries Windvane, Dickenson heater, Autohelm autopilot, Furuno radar, 40 hp Yanmar engine. 3 burner stove/oven, refrig/freezer, Spectra watermaker. 2018, power train refurbished at $20K cost. Orcas Island, WA. $135,000(broker), $125,000(private).

» Contact Tom Owens • (360) 632-8896

• svlandsend@yahoo.com

• $125,000

• marydwood@gmail.com

BOATS FOR SALE

$25,000

1995 25' CATALINA 250 (WATER BALLAST) TRAILER SAILER

Asymmetrical spinnaker, snuffer, 135 roller furling jib, wheel steering. Tabernacle mast raising, anchor, stereo, enclosed head, blinds, cockpit cushions & table, BBQ, compass, Nexus Multi Control display, VHF, Genus batt charger. Vinyl pop-top. Galvanized tandem trailer 2003 9.9 HP Mercury 4-stroke outboard. Free dry storage Portland, assumable slip St. Helens. More Photos. Asking Price $2k below NADA.

» Contact Stuart G Roberts • (503) 577-7026

• sglroberts@gmail.com 8

• $12,500

• $35,000 FOR SALE

28' WOOD FRIENDSHIP SLOOP FOR SALE

Marie Anne , a Friendship Sloop; they originally were gaff rigged fish boats in Maine. Mahogany planking, two-cylinder Yanmar, sails, interior and cockpit cushions winches. The owner, now deceased, worked out of state for eleven years. The boat was in salt water storage, under cover in Seattle. This is a boat for someone who loves a historic type vessel and can fix her up. Negotiable price.

» Contact Paul Kelton • pkeltop@gmail.com $3,500TEAK

C&C 33 SAILBOAT FOR SALE

Excellent sailing boat, multiple sails including great set of racing sails, trailer. LOA – 32’6", Beam – 10’6", Draft – 6’4", Weight – 9800 lbs.

» Contact John Simms • (406) 465-2366

• truenorthsailing@gmail.com • $29,000

BUSINESS FOR SALE

LUXURY SAILING CHARTER BUSINESS FOR SALE IN THE SAN JUANS

Highly successful crewed charter business with established history of full seasons and satisfied clients. Immaculate 5 stateroom sailing yacht with USCG Coastwise Trade endorsement, beautiful website, fabulous reviews. Outstanding turnkey business!

425-443-2322 stephen@ibainc.com

INSTRUCTION

SEATTLE YACHTS SAILING ACADEMY ANACORTES

HELP WANTED

• ASA 101s

American Sailing Association courses Basic Keelboat 101 through Advanced Coastal 206

Oct.1/2, Oct. 8/9, Oct. 15/16, Oct. 22/23 or Oct. 29-30 (4 spaces per class) Oct. 6-10 CruiseNLearn 103/104 (4 spaces left per class)

JOIN THE TEAM AT THE NORTHWEST MARITIME CENTER AS THE WATERFRONT PROGRAM MANAGER!

Based in Beautiful Anacortes, WA

www.sailtime.com/anacortes/sailing-school info@seattleyachts.com 360-299-0777

• ASA 103s

Oct. 2 (2-4 spaces left)

• There are other spots open as well!

Contact us to get on the schedule before the end of the season! 206-351-8661 or 360-299-0777 www.sailtime.com/Anacortes

Tethys

Nancy Erley, Instructor

Our suite of waterfront programs provides inspirational, recreational, and transformative maritime experiences for youth and adults. Utilizing our successes, we have added new boats and new programming to expand the offerings that add to the vibrancy of our waterfront campus. If you have extensive on-thewater experience and want to use your knowledge as a base for management, program oversight, and teaching, we’d like to meet you!

» Full description on our website at nwmaritime.org/about/job-opportunities/

Ballard

Beta

First

Jeff

Port

Scan

Seattle

Seventh

Gray Eagle is a lightly used 2019 Beneteau Oceanis 41.1 with less than 275 hours on the 45 hp Yanmar diesel. This popular cruising sailboat features the two-cabin, one-head layout with additional crew capacity on the double-berth salon conversion. Her classic mahogany joinery gives the space a rich and warm feel, while the brightness of light Marlin Weiss upholstery and carbon-colored wall coverings provide a modern finish. This particular model has the coveted “garage,” perfect for storing the new Doyle Sails AP A2 asymmetrical spinnaker and other toys. Optimized for comfort and safety, Gray Eagle has all the features to make your time on the water fun and memorable. Factory heat, microwave, electric head, extra water tank, cockpit cushions, complete B&G electronics, bow thruster, and electric windlass are a few of her highlights. This is a rare opportunity for a fortunate sailor or family who appreciates the ‘like new’ condition of a modern cruiser from naval architects Finot-Conq with Nauta Design. Just add a dinghy and you’ll be set to explore the waters and islands of the Salish Sea.

– ken monaghan

Gray