No matter the cruising ground, it is part of the natural order.
The saga to replace a blown-up sail on the west side of Van Isle.
Emergency repairs in remote Gwaii Haanas National Park.
How they work, and why every cruiser needs one.
and Gio Cappelli
The mid-Strait islands of Texada and Jedediah have lots to offer.
This adventurer loves sharing the wonders of Wahkaikum County.
The Top 25 elements of the 51st installment of this PNW classic.
A big lap around the San Juan Islands dishes worthy challenges.
A fleet as competitive as it was fun assembled for a great event.
ON THE COVER: David Shepherdson's J/120 Margaret II charges across beautiful Bellingham Bay on a hard port-jibe reach during the 51 st PITCH Regatta. Photo by Debbie Kuiken.
Background photo courtesy of Gavin Brackett.
Editor
I LOVE IT WHEN A COMMUNITY COMES TOGETHER
My kiddos are now ages 3 and 1. During this kid-centric season of life, I find special value in the seemingly-rare opportunities to top up my boat-love tanks. A month ago, I got to do that with a week of summertime cruising in the islands leading the 48° North Cruising Rally. This month, it was all about fabulously fun events: first the Port Townsend Wooden Boat Festival and then the Boats Afloat Show on Lake Union. There’s even a little cherry on top of those… for that, you’ll have to read on. All of this reinforced my good fortune to be raising children in the community of Pacific Northwest boat folk.
In our increasingly digital world, tangible, interactive, analog gatherings provide something precious. The chance to stand aboard a vessel—whether a new build or a historic schooner—gives us so much more than an article, photo, or video could. It’s like turning a camera’s aperture ring to infinity and seeing the adventurous possibilities near and far emerge from blurry bokeh into tack-sharp focus. You may think you’re developing daydreams from the comfort of an armchair, but you really haven’t known dreams until you’re on the boat you think may take you away. Nonetheless, the community that assembles is what takes these boaty get-togethers from useful to uncommon.
The Wooden Boat Festival was smashing, as ever. History and tradition are parts of the draw that keeps it North America’s largest of its kind, but year-over-year consistency is punctuated by plenty of fresh new (often old) boats to ogle, inspiring stories to digest, and clever techniques to learn. The grandeur of the large vessels that have 100th birthdays in their wakes, the polished sheen of the smaller labor-of-love home builds or resurrections, the stout ocean-goers that remind middle-aged me that many fellow boaters knew a time when wood was the only viable material from which to build boats for even the most epic voyages—it all makes Festival one of a kind. These boats endure, and so does the knowledge to build and maintain them, as well as the endless horizons one can chase on a wooden boat. Still, each Festival’s primary gift is the gathering of such remarkable people—the celebration of this community’s shared love for these vessels and its collective commitment to craft animating the celebration of the boats themselves.
The atmosphere at Boats Afloat was quite different, but no less igniting. 48° North’s place in the midst of ports and chandleries, broker/dealers and boat yards, industry services and ownership alternatives threw logs on the fire of admiration for all that makes our regional boating scene so vibrant. This industry hootenanny highlighted the path ahead for an audience of boat show attendees I’d characterize in broad strokes as ‘not yet core-audience.’
That was the most exciting thing about Boats Afloat—a perfectly balanced experience of familiar faces and old friends on the exhibitor side, in harmonious counterpoint with the eager group of showgoers that was anything but the same-old crowd. It was another version of the boating community, and every bit as enthralling.
48º North
Volume XLV, Number 3, October 2025 (206) 789-7350
info@48north.com | www.48north.com
Publisher Northwest Maritime
Managing Editor Joe Cline joe@48north.com
Editor Andy Cross andy@48north.com
Designer Rainier Powers rainier@48north.com
Advertising Sales Ryan Carson ryan@48north.com
Classifieds classads48@48north.com
48° North is published as a project of Northwest Maritime in Port Townsend, WA – a 501(c)3 non-profit organization whose mission is to engage and educate people of all generations in traditional and contemporary maritime life, in a spirit of adventure and discovery.
Northwest Maritime Center: 431 Water St, Port Townsend, WA 98368 (360) 385-3628
48° North encourages letters, photographs, manuscripts, burgees, and bribes. Emailed manuscripts and high quality digital images are best!
We are not responsible for unsolicited materials. Articles express the author’s thoughts and may not reflect the opinions of the magazine. Reprinting in whole or part is expressly forbidden except by permission from the editor.
SUBSCRIPTION OPTIONS FOR 2025
$39/Year For The Magazine
$100/Year For Premium (perks!) www.48north.com/subscribe for details.
I'll see you on the water,
Joe Cline Managing Editor, 48° North
All of this tank-topping stoke, though, led to this month’s pinnacle of maritime community appreciation. Shortly after these events, I attended a media day hosted by Washington State Ferries to observe their immersive Classroom on the Water educational partnership with Maritime High School students (page 10). The vibes were off the charts, and not just for the kids. Ferry workers at every level of responsibility were clearly floored to be working with this group of students. To watch today’s professional mariners communing with tomorrow’s was inspiring enough to soften any salt-hardened sailor. This trio of community experiences will fuel me into the coming seasons of rain and cold. However, with boating being the year-round activity that it is in our region, I’ll surely have new chances to fill the tanks again sooner than later.
Prices vary for international or first class.
Proud members:
50’ Santa Cruz
Sabre
50’ Solaris
44’ Worldcruiser
32’ Ribcraft
LETTERS 9
Different Vibes, Both Excellent
Hi Joe and Andy,
This outreach was spurred by my chance pick-up of an issue of 48° North at Sail Sand Point when I was walking the dog there the other day. The July issue was the only one they still had on hand, and I immediately consumed much of it while sitting on the dock.
They also had the August issue of Latitude 38 (Volume 578) on their shelf, a publication that I somehow had never seen before. Significantly, I noticed a good number of Pacific Northwest references and tie-ins within their content. It’s good to see that the two regions are connected like that in the sailing/cruising sphere.
While I observed differences likely reflecting the distinct “vibes” of the two sailing cultures, they also seem to inform the editorial style and aesthetics of the two magazines. The voices in Latitude 38 are bolder and more freestyle and exhibitionist than those in 48° North. Whereas the Pacific Northwest, as reflected in 48° North, is refreshingly unpretentious, humble, and understated.
In this vein, I really liked Andy’s piece “Swimmable Saltwater,” particularly where he summarizes: “When we arrived in the Bay Area, summer was still in full blast mode and we again took to the water…. We found some favorite spots to swim but the vibe was different. Up north, we’d worked harder for it and most of the places where we swam were very secluded …. California was different.” Part of the difference was apparently that the Californians took their sunny weather and access to swimmable spots more for granted. But for Andy, “these Pacific Northwest saltwater swimming experiences had spoiled us” … as though the more sublime, fleeting nature of the phenomenon made it better, something exquisite to be savored.
I mention these things apropos of nothing in particular; just that it was a revelation to read an issue of Latitude 38 alongside 48° North and compare the cultures and styles of these two generally excellent sailing/cruising magazines. Keep up the good work.
Cheers, Richard Howard
Correction to North Sails “In The Biz” Story from the September 2025 Issue
Along with our congratulations and gratitude to outgoing North Sails Seattle owner, Jack Christiansen, who helmed the local loft for the last 30 years, 48° North also needs to extend an apology for misspelling Jack’s name in the article about North Sails Seattle’s recent ownership changeover. The correct spelling is Christiansen, and we’re sorry about that mistake, Jack! Thanks for all you’ve given the Pacific Northwest sailing community.
News from Northwest Maritime
48° North has been published by the nonprofit Northwest Maritime since 2018. We are continually amazed and inspired by the important work of our colleagues and organization, and dedicate these pages to sharing more about these activities with you.
I WANT TO GO TO MARITIME HIGH SCHOOL
WASHINGTON STATE FERRIES AND MARITIME HIGH SCHOOL PARTNER FOR CLASSROOM ON THE WATER
Any experienced mariner will tell you, each time you step aboard a boat there’s a learning opportunity—Northwest Maritime doesn’t declare the sea ‘the greatest teacher we know’ for nothing.
Still, not all waterborne learning experiences are created equal and, this month, a group of Maritime High School (MHS) seniors in the vessel operations pathway have been engaged in some of the most exciting education imaginable through a partnership with the Washington State Ferries (WSF).
This collaboration, called Classroom on the Water, is unique in its shared development between WSF and the education teams at Northwest Maritime and MHS. Classroom on the Water spans two weeks and gives students hands-on exposure to every facet of work on the ferries—from the engine room to the car deck, from the wheelhouse to repairs at the terminal and, on the day
I was aboard, a full test run of the firefighting equipment and protocols.
The group gathered for an orientation in the passenger area, before heading out to the car deck to don firefighting gear. They stopped short of the oxygen masks, but were otherwise outfitted from boots to helmet. For teenagers, getting dressed with your classmates is equal parts humorous and awkward, but once fully attired, they were transformed. Engaged, focused, ready to go… all with a healthy dose of enthusiasm.
As students enrolled in another MHS partnership with Seattle Colleges’ Seattle Maritime Academy, each of the 10 students in attendance has already completed their Basic Safety Training (BST), which includes firefighting. So while there was excitement and eagerness aplenty, these young mariners comported themselves like experienced hands with a matter-of-fact
competence that belied their ages.
Savvy as they are, standing at the stern of a ferry in lines of three, bathed in September sunshine and overheating in their heavy kit, braced against the power of a firehose as they directed it out into the prop wash in the foreground as the Seattle skyline faded into the distance—students and ferry workers alike were clearly enjoying the moment. And indeed, one student mentioned how cool she thought it was to see how the firefighting techniques they’d learned previously would be employed on a boat, but all the students I spoke to characterized the experience as fun!
After a lunch break, the group headed to the wheelhouse to observe the docking process at the Seattle terminal. They had already been given a thorough rundown on systems and how the array of equipment worked, and now watched two different mates drive the boat, and got to talk to and ask questions of mates and the captain.
It’s hard to say whether these students, who have self-selected into this rich maritime track, recognize how unique and tangibly applicable this opportunity is, but it couldn’t have been clearer to me. As special it all was, WSF Outreach specialist Adam Dahl told me that part of why they’re getting so much out of it is because these students are a “unique group of mariners, they’re so engaged and asking questions.” On top of that, Bryn Hunter, who works on the WSF Communications team, shared that it’s a huge morale boost for the WSF crew who get to interact with the students. Good vibes all around doesn’t say nearly enough. It was legitimately inspiring.
Hunter told me that WSF recruiters find exposure to maritime opportunities influencing new hires’ interest and readiness at least as much as dedicated maritime training. Lucky for MHS students, they’re getting both. Moreover, opportunities like this are incredibly important in building a foundation for a positive employment experience. Dahl noted that first year employee retention is something WSF is working to increase from its present rate around 60%, and students getting such an immersive experience helps ensure they will know what to expect at work should they find future employment here.
That employment is rightly desirable, too. Dahl said an 18 year old MHS graduate can start out making $33.28/hour as an Ordinary Seafarer, with a variety of paths for advancement. The horizons are remarkably broad—a current WSF Captain, Jennifer Johnson, advanced to her role after starting as an Ordinary Seafarer only 9 years earlier.
Now in its second year, Classroom on the Water has already paid dividends. A member of the inaugural MHS graduating class recently began work with WSF, and spoke with the current students about his experience as a part of this program.
Classroom on the Water is one of the most vivid examples of workforce development and experiential education that I can ever recall encountering. I love what I do, but can I go to Maritime High School, too?
Mark your calendars—Race to Alaska and SEVENTY48 are back in 2026, and race dates and details have just been announced.
SEVENTY48 launches first: Friday, May 29, 2026, at 7 PM from Tacoma. 70 miles, 48 hours, no sails, no engines—just you, your boat, and your grit.
Race to Alaska follows: Sunday, June 14, 2026, at 5 AM from Port Townsend. Two stages, same deal as always (it ain’t broke): 750 miles, no support, no engines, and a prize of $10,000 for the winner (and steak knives for second place).
Promo videos are live, Race Packets are posted, and applications for both open November 15, 2025. Between now and then, fix your boat, swear in your crew, and question your life choices.
Are you in?
» www.seventy48.com » www.r2ak.com
low tides » News & Events
NEW WASHINGTON FISHERMEN’S CONVENTION TO SPOTLIGHT STATE’S FISHING INDUSTRY
The first-ever Washington Fishermen’s Convention is coming to Westport this winter, aimed at unifying and celebrating the state’s diverse fishing industry while bringing new and prospective fishermen into the fold.
The Convention will take place December 4-8, 2025. Current and aspiring fishermen can register on the Washington Sea Grant event page. Hosted by Washington Sea Grant with funding from the Young Fishermen’s Development Act, and planned by an advisory committee of commercial fishermen, the Washington Fishermen’s Convention will bring together experienced commercial fishermen, those new to the industry, and those hoping to enter it, with something to offer everyone in the community.
Fishermen can participate in whichever way makes sense for them, with up to five days of learning and networking opportunities available as well as a two-day conference and individually priced training sessions. Commercial fishermen receive a discounted price on trainings, and scholarships and industry-funded conference tickets for new fishermen are available.
“Our hope is that the Washington Fishermen’s Convention will bring together our diverse fishing sectors, different generations of fishermen, and those with decades of experience along with new fishermen for a few days of workforce development and social connection,” says Bridget Trosin, Washington Sea Grant fisheries and boating team lead. “Our commercial fishermen are an important part of Washington’s maritime culture, and we need more of them.”
CONVENTION OFFERINGS ARE AS FOLLOWS:
• December 4-5: Drill Instructor and Fishermen First Aid and Safety Training – U.S. Coast Guard-approved trainings to conduct drills and help to keep crews safe at sea.
• December 6-7: Washington Fishermen’s Conference – Multitrack educational and networking conference and community meals for both new and experienced fishermen. Topics include hands-on knot tying and gear repair, finance and insurance technical assistance, crew/captain matchmaking, and more.
• December 8: Sea Trial – Participants test their seaworthiness on a commercial fishing vessel.
All of the Convention’s offerings will take place in Westport, Washington at The Siren (421 Neddie Rose Dr) and McCausland Hall (2200 Nyhus St N).
“Commercial fishing sustains my family, as it does for countless others on the Washington coast. Here in Westport, the seafood industry is a cornerstone of our economy and identity,” says Molly Bold, General Manager of Westport Marina and a member of the Convention’s advisory committee. “There’s a real need to better support those who want to enter this field and ensure its future.”
A leader in marine outreach, research and education, Washington Sea Grant has supported Washington’s diverse fishing industry for more than 50 years. From Coast Guardapproved Drill Instructor and Fishermen’s First Aid at Sea training to fisheries research and Washington seafoodfocused consumer education, Washington Sea Grant provides information, tools, technical assistance, and training to support sustainable operations, product quality, and vibrant and resilient fisheries and aquaculture.
Become a part of the 48° North crew! In addition to your magazine each month, with this exciting new subscription offering, you’ll also be supporting 48° North in a more meaningful way. But, warmed cockles are far from the only benefit. Others include:
• Annual subscription to 48° North delivered to your door.
• Two 3-day pass to Port Townsend Wooden Boat Festival ($110 value)
• Northwest Maritime Center Member decal
• 10% discount on most items in the Welcome Center
• $100/year (additional fees for First Class forwarding or International)
JUST
THE
MAGAZINE,
PLEASE: Our standard subscription gets you 12 months of 48° North and its associated special publications (SARC, Setting Sail, and the Official R2AK Program).
• $39/year (additional fees for First Class forwarding or International)
or Pleasure, AquaDrive will make your boat smoother, quieter and vibration free.
The AquaDrive system solves a problem nearly a century old; the fact that marine engines are installed on soft engine mounts and attached almost rigidly to the propeller shaft.
The very logic of AquaDrive is inescapable. An engine that is vibrating
on soft mounts needs total freedom of movement from its propshaft if noise and vibration are not to be transmitted to the hull. The AquaDrive provides just this freedom of movement. Tests proved that the AquaDrive with its softer engine mountings can reduce vibration by 95% and structure borne noise by 50% or more. For information, call Drivelines NW today.
low tides » News & Events
FISHERIES SUPPLY FALL SWAP MEET SET FOR OCTOBER 4
When fall arrives, so too does the always-popular Fisheries Supply Swap Meet.
The highly anticipated Fisheries Supply Fall Swap Meet is back on Saturday, October 4, 2025 from 6 a.m. to 1 p.m. Dive into a sea of boat parts and equipment as well as last season’s clothing—all at unbeatable prices. Don’t miss out on the best boating bargains of the year. Get there early for the best deals and to connect with fellow enthusiasts. Located at Fisheries Supply, 1900 N. Northlake Way, Seattle. See you there!
A maritime flea market, full of boating goods, old parts, new parts, outboards, buoys, dock line, coolers, heaters, chain, clothing, and so much more. Die-hard bargain boaters have been known to arrive the night before to stake out a good parking spot, although sellers are
not allowed to use the lower tier of the upper parking lot (closest to the store entrance). In addition to the hundreds of boaters buying, selling and trading boating equipment, Fisheries Supply will be offering reduced pricing on clearance, discontinued, overstock, scratch and dent products, and more.
» www.fisheriessupply.com/swap-meet
NMTA GROW BOATING GRANT APPLICATION WINDOW
NOW OPEN, CLOSES OCTOBER 31
The Northwest Marine Trade Association’s (NMTA) Grow Boating Program serves the NMTA’s core purpose—to increase the number of boaters in the Northwest and to encourage year-round participation in recreational boating.
Since its inception in 2003, the NMTA has invested over $2 million in the promotion of boating in the Pacific Northwest. Funding for the NMTA’s Grow Boating Program is generated through a surcharge on rented square footage at the annual Seattle Boat Show, held each January.
The NMTA Grow Boating Committee is responsible for managing and allocating the regional Grow Boating fund, making strategic decisions on programs, events, and promotions to encourage boating across the Northwest. One of its central roles is to evaluate and award multiple grants, and determine ways to further engage the boating public.
The NMTA is pleased to announce the continuation of its Grow Boating grant program for 2025 – 2026, once again offering ten $1,000 grants to organizations that help get new boaters on the water, promote diversity and inclusion, and encourage current boaters to go boating more often.
The application process is now open and closes October 31, 2025. Grants will be announced in December 2025 and funds will be distributed to grantees in the spring of 2026. Please consider applying on behalf of your own organization, and help NMTA spread the word by forwarding the application details to any organizations you think might be interested.
The application and more information about the Grow Boating initiative, the grant process, and types of programs funded can be found at the NMTA’s website.
» nmta.net/boating/growboating/
PLACES 2025 CONFERENCE COMING TO GIG HARBOR,
OCTOBER 8-10
PLACES is Washington’s annual statewide conference focused on the continued care of place through historic preservation, placemaking, and economic vitality, brought to you by the Washington Trust for Historic Preservation and the Department of Archaeology & Historic Preservation. The PLACES Conference allows preservationists, planners, downtown development professionals, and anyone who cares about place to dive deep into creative ideas, build their network, and inspire new solutions.
Bringing PLACES to Gig Harbor is a collaboration with the Gig Harbor Waterfront Alliance and will feature the Maritime Washington National Heritage Area throughout the conference.
HERE’S A TASTE OF WHAT’S IN STORE:
• Hands-on tours and boat cruises exploring Gig Harbor, Bremerton, and beyond.
• Inspiring and practical sessions on maritime industry training, storytelling, and preserving coastal structures and vessels.
• Timely conversations about Tribal leadership, coastal resilience, and the future of traditional maritime trades.
• Networking with preservationists, planners, and maritime professionals. And, of course, there are plenty of opportunities for fun and connection! Celebrate seaside at the Excellence on Main Awards at the Foss Waterway Seaport, and don’t miss Pier into the Night, where you can sip a local brew while watching live underwater footage from a diver in Gig Harbor. This is more than just a conference; it’s a gathering of people who love and care for the places that make Washington special, especially our saltwater shores.
DUCKWORKS REOPENED BY ITS FOUNDER TO SELL BOAT BUILDING PLANS AND SAILS
Small boat builders and the buildcurious rejoice, Duckworks lives! It’s been restarted (in 2.0 mode) by its founder as a marketplace for boat building plans and sails to match.
A few months ago, we announced that the supplier of parts and plans for small boats, Duckworks Boat Builders Supply, was ceasing warehouse operations. Functionally, that ended all Duckworks operations for a time. While the future was uncertain, there was scuttlebutt even then that this closure wasn’t exactly permanent.
Well, the small boat building community didn’t have to wait long, and the clearinghouse for small boat build plans has been relaunched by its founder, Chuck Leinweber. Additionally, the business will offer sails to fit those boats.
Of this 2.0 version of Duckworks, Leinweber wrote, “I started Duckworks
in 1999 to create an online presence for boat builders. It grew to be a good source of boat building supplies, tools, and especially plans. We sold the business several years ago to retire but stayed on part-time to help out. When I heard the business was shutting down, I knew I wanted to do something. So, I bought the name and decided I would at least bring back the plans and a bit more.”
48° North’s small boat adventuring columnist, Bruce Bateau, added these thoughts to the news about this new era for Duckworks, “Having so many plans in one place from a trusted source is a real gift to the small boat community. Chuck Leinweber deserves kudos for stepping up to support small craft users and designers.”
Small boat maven, Marty Loken, shared the following in his announcement of Duckworks 2.0 for Small Craft Advisor,
ULLMAN SAILS
Pacific Northwest
“Longtime Duckworks customers will be happy to hear that Tammy, a helpful and cheerful voice on the phone, will for now handle all physical orders for boat plans. Chuck will oversee the new website and field most emails, including questions about different plans or stock sails. I’ll be on call in a tech-support role, when folks are stuck deciding which boat to build, or how to approach a building or restoration challenge.”
So, whether you’ve been bathing in sawdust since you were in diapers, or you’re steeling yourself for your first ever boat build, Duckworks remains one of the best options to help you explore and through which you can buy plans. Learn more at duckworks.com
CROSSWORD AND TRIVIA
DID YOU KNOW?
by Bryan Henry
Jacques Cousteau and Jean de Wouters invented the first waterproof 35mm camera in 1963, the Calypso, later licensed to Nikon as the Nikonos.
The first photographs in natural color taken underwater were photographed by National Geographic in 1926 off the Florida Keys.
The Universal Kalendar, the first nautical almanac in the United States, was compiled by Samuel Stearns and published in Boston in 1782.
The first printed book devoted to seashells was produced in Rome in 1681.
The first issue of The Mariner’s Mirror, the British journal of maritime history, was published in 1911.
The first modern seagoing shrimp trawlers appeared around 1917.
ACROSS
1 To stop a vessel by positioning sails against the wind, 2 words
5 Place to sleep on a ship
8 Turns the bow of the boat through the wind
9 Flags of ships showing their nationalities
10 They may be used for docking and undocking 12 Respected
14 The Elizabethan ____
15 On the open ocean, 2 words
16 Foggy, perhaps
19 Single-masted sailboat with fore-and-aft rig
21 Behind the vessel
24 Device used specifically for downwind sailing, allowing for efficient use of the jib on a wing-and-wing course, 2 words
27 Soldier, abbr.
28 ATM access requirement
30 Large in size
31 Sea___: old and experienced sailor
32 Throw rapidly
DOWN
1 The opening that’s used to send cargo down to lower decks
2 They hold vessels in place
3 Naval officer rank, abbr.
4 Complete renovation or repair
5 A ship’s officer
6 Cleaning cloth
7 Sprayed with water
11 Valve on a hull fitting for water intake or discharge
13 To pass a rope through a block or fitting
17 To release a vessel from its mooring, 2 words
18 _____ rigging: lines on a sailing vessel that are used to hoist, lower, and control the sails and movable spars
20 Stretched out
22 Mop used to clean the deck
23 Naval prison
25 Self-esteem
26 Prefix for center
29 Currently fashionable
The first people known to have used stellar navigation for ocean crossings were ancient Pacific islanders, thought to have first entered the Pacific Ocean 7,000 years ago.
In an effort to protect reefs in Florida, John Pennekamp State Park off Key Largo, the world’s first completely underwater park, was created in 1960.
Some cone shells obtain food by harpooning victims with a paralyzing sting.
The first flight of a seaplane, piloted by Glenn Curtiss, took place in San Diego, California in 1911.
Larry Newman was the first person to pilot a balloon across the Pacific Ocean, in 1981.
The space shuttle Discovery was named for the ship on which Robert Scott first sailed to Antarctica.
The first American-owned corporation, The New York Fishing Company, was chartered in 1675.
In the early 1900s, the Lusitania and the Mauretania were the first two ocean liners to cross the Atlantic in under five days.
Herman Melville, author of Moby-Dick , took his first sea voyage in 1839, departing New York for Liverpool on a sailing vessel.
low tides » Products News
» CUSTOM MARINE PRODUCTS 4 QUADRANT SOLAR PANEL
Solar panels on cruising boats have become increasingly more common, and with that, there are more choices on the market than ever. Custom Marine Products has recently introduced their four quadrant split cell walk-on design that allows the panel to have four sets of solar cells linked in series and isolated with inner panel blocking diodes. What that means for users is that, if one or two quadrants are shaded, the other quadrants perform at normal output. This can increase shaded panel output by three times that of a standard shaded panel. The junction box has also been changed to a single duplex cable, which reduces deck and cabin penetrations by half and greatly lowers trip hazards. And, with updated fittings, the new system is easy for most sailors with DIY experience. The panels come in a variety of wattages and sizes.
Price: Starting at $659 » www.custommarineproducts.com
» ZHIK OFS600 OFFSHORE CRUISING JACKET
Fall is here in the Pacific Northwest, and with it will be rainy and cool days where proper foul weather gear is a must to keep you comfortable and dry out on the water. Zhik’s new men’s and women’s OFS600 Offshore Cruising Jacket might be the perfect new layer for your waterborne adventures. The jacket offers high-visibility protection and comfort for sailors venturing into inshore, coastal, or offshore conditions, and features a breathable two-layer waterproof shell, mesh lining, and essential offshore detailing—ideal for extended wear in unpredictable environments. Durable and versatile, the jacket has an ergonomic mediumheight storm collar with quick-dry fleece lining, dual hood adjustments for a secure fit, waterresistant zippers, and more. It comes in colors black or flame red.
Price: $319.99 » www.zhik.com
» WET SOUNDS MARINE AUDIO RECEIVER
Being able to listen to music on your boat is a must for some boaters, and it is now easier than ever to do so. Fortunately, gone are the days of large, cumbersome music decks and speakers for boats. Wet Sound’s WS-MC-RND Marine Audio Receiver is a sleek and powerful media center that is engineered to fit on a variety of boats, including in standard gauge openings. With a clean, modern look the receiver has a bright 2.75inch LCD screen that clearly displays song info, radio stations, and menu navigation. Designed for intuitive use, the large backlit buttons make it easy to control your audio in any lighting condition. You can stream your favorite music via built-in Bluetooth, AUX input, or connect through the USB charging port. The receiver is easy to install and has a 4x25W built-in amplifier.
Price: $219.99 » www.wetsounds.com
NECESSARY OR NICE 18
VOLTAGE SENSING RELAYS WHY EVERY CRUISING BOAT NEEDS ONE
by Gio and Julie Cappelli
There’s a popular saying among marine technicians, “Batteries don’t just die, they’re murdered.” And it’s true. Most battery failures we see on cruising boats are not because the batteries themselves were misbehaving or suffer from manufacturing defects. Rather they are the result of their owner not fully understanding how their boat is wired or how their battery charging systems work… or don’t. High quality lead-acid batteries can live long and prosperous lives serving a cruising boat for many years, so long as they are properly cared for.
The three golden guidelines for battery health are:
1. Don’t discharge too deeply.
2. Charge them fully and regularly, as recommended by the manufacturer.
3. Keep your battery banks properly isolated.
That third guideline, bank isolation, is more critical than you think, yet it remains one of the least understood
concepts in marine electrical systems. Most cruising boats carry at least two battery banks: a house bank that keeps the lights on, the fridge cold, and so on, and a start bank dedicated solely to cranking the engine. In an ideal world, these two banks are completely separate and isolated from one another. That way, even if you accidentally drain the house bank making margaritas all night via your boat’s inverter, the engine start battery is still ready to get you moving in the morning. Without battery bank isolation, you risk flattening all batteries onboard at once. When battery banks are combined or paralleled, differences in age,
chemistry, or capacity can shorten the lifespan of all the batteries. Mixing old and new batteries is a recipe for early failure. That’s why you’ve probably heard professionals recommend replacing an entire bank with identical batteries, never mixing and matching.
OUTDATED ISOLATION METHODS
Boatbuilders and DIYers have employed a wide variety of methods to isolate battery banks over the years. The most common—and most fallible—legacy solution is the ubiquitous “1-2-All” or “1-2-Both” switch. This relic is still present on countless boats and it can certainly work if you understand your
The genius of this system is that it completely removes the possibility of human error. No switches to remember, no voltage drop penalties, just smart, automatic isolation and charging.
wiring intimately; you always remember to set it in the correct position for motoring, anchoring, and charging; and you never, ever forget. But that’s a lot of trust to put in human memory, especially on boats that have been progressively rewired over the years. And the reality is that many boats are wired incorrectly when modified by past owners or are simply too complex for casual operators to manage efficiently with a manual switch.
Another legacy option is the diode isolator. These nifty little devices employ diodes that act as electrical check valves and allow current to flow in only one direction, keeping banks separate while still letting them charge. There is a significant drawback to this technology, though—it causes a voltage drop of about 0.5 volts as current passes through the diode. That means your batteries are constantly being undercharged. This voltage drop can be compensated for with a deep dive into the advanced settings of your charging devices to proportionately increase your charging voltage, but should only be done by professionals.
Both solutions can function, but they’re clunky, outdated, and error-prone. So, especially if you’re thinking, “Hey, my boat’s got one of those relics,” read on.
THE ELEGANT SOLUTION: VOLTAGE SENSING RELAYS
Enter the Voltage Sensing Relay (VSR), the topic for this month’s question: “Necessary or Nice?” A relay is simply an electrically controlled switch. And a VSR specifically is a relay that monitors line voltage between your boat's battery banks. When it senses charging voltage on either side of the relay, the switch automatically closes, temporarily connecting your banks in parallel so they both receive available charge current. As soon as the charging source turns off and the line voltage drops, the VSR senses this and automatically switches to the open position, once again ensuring that the battery banks are isolated.
Isolation is only half the story. Modern boats often carry multiple charging sources: solar, wind, hydro, shore chargers, fuel cells, generators, and of course, alternators. A VSR ensures every
Relay contact position and associated voltage/time specifications for the (A) open and (B) closed positions.
A simplified wiring diagram of an ACR with start interrupt.
available amp-hour goes where it’s needed without human intervention. The genius of this system is that it completely removes the possibility of human error. No switches to remember, no voltage drop penalties, just smart, automatic isolation and charging.
These are commercially available from a number of manufacturers with differing specs and features, all serving the same principal function; but we’re going to focus on one from the Bellingham-based company Blue Sea Systems, which they call the Automatic Charging Relay (ACR).
Many boat owners are skeptical about trusting such an important job to a piece of “green chip technology” and we get it. The track record of Blue Sea’s ACRs is rock solid and they come backed by a lifetime guarantee. In all our years of installing, using, and recommending them, we’ve never seen one fail. In fact, we trust one on our own boat, Sea Fox, our 2002 MalÖ 39.
An often-overlooked benefit of the ACR, and the reason we prefer this particular VSR over the alternatives, is its Start Isolation function. When you turn the key to crank your engine, or hit the bow thruster, the electric motor briefly demands a huge amount of inrush current. If your battery banks are connected during that surge, the voltage drop could momentarily drag down sensitive electronics powered by your house bank, causing equipment like chartplotters or radios to brown out or reset. With Start Isolation properly wired, the ACR automatically
opens during cranking, protecting your house bank and onboard electronics from that dip. As soon as the engine is running and alternator output comes online, the ACR reconnects and resumes normal charging. It’s a simple, automatic safeguard that most boat owners never even realize they need until the day their navigation screen goes black just as they tap the bow thruster.
For additional peace of mind, the AddA-Battery Kit pairs the ACR with a simple emergency parallel switch. That way, if one of your boat’s battery banks ever fails completely, you can still combine them manually and get home.
A FEW CAVEATS
We must include an important caveat on compatibility. Automatic Charging Relays are not universal solutions and they are not all created equal. They have different current ratings among the various models, so they must be compatible with the charging capabilities of the system they are installed in. They are not voltage-manipulating devices. They simply connect or disconnect banks based on system voltage. That means all battery banks tied into an ACR should have similar charging profiles and chemistries. Furthermore, charging sources need to be correctly programmed for the batteries that are installed on your boat. ACRs are not recommended for lithium batteries whose charging profiles are unique and require a battery management system. Combining them with traditional lead-
acid systems through an ACR should not be attempted. But for most cruising boats running lead-acid banks, an ACR is a simple, reliable, and elegant solution, but it’s not a one-size-fits-all answer.
FINAL WORD
Nobody likes the mess and expense of replacing their boat’s batteries; and the longer you can keep them alive, the longer and farther you can cruise. That’s why we put the VSR, specifically the Blue Sea Systems ACR, firmly in the necessary category for every cruising boat with two battery banks.
When it comes to this magical piece of technology, we must emphasize that installation most certainly matters. A VSR is only as effective as the system it’s wired into. For best results, it should be professionally installed by a qualified marine electrician who can ensure it’s placed correctly in your charging circuit and that your overall system is optimized.
In our opinion, the Automatic Charging Relay isn’t just a convenience, it’s an essential piece of gear for any serious cruiser. It protects your batteries, eliminates human error, and makes the most of every charging opportunity.
Gio and Julie of Pelagic Blue lead offshore sail training expeditions and teach cruising skills classes aimed at preparing aspiring cruisers for safe, selfsufficient cruising on their own boats. Details and expedition sailing schedule at www.pelagicbluecruising.com An Automatic Charging Relay (ACR) in its natural habitat.
MORE STRAIT OF GEORGIA HIKES FOR BOATERS
by Michael Boyd
Autumn can provide some of the absolute best times on the water, and good times are also a fair expectation when you dinghy in to stretch your legs on a lovely hiking trail near Salish Sea anchorages throughout the fall. In this season, cruisers rightly tend to condense their distances, but since we’re not into the winter approach of short days in backyard waters, options abound—including in the Strait of Georgia.
Many might think of locations like these—north of Nanaimo, before you get to Desolation Sound—as great choices for a stop when breaking up a longer trip. However, we think these are also excellent destinations in their own right, and some have ideal hiking opportunities and are worthy of a longer stay. Our previous article on the area covered some of our favorites including Smuggler Cove, Pender Harbour, and Hornby Island’s Tribune Bay, and the following shares details about three more.
JEDEDIAH ISLAND
Tucked in between Lasqueti and Texada Islands, Jedediah Island was once a privately owned homestead farm but is now a Provincial Marine Park. There are several bays on the west side with stern tie rings allowing a number of boats to moor. The most protected of these is probably Deep Bay, which also has good access to the island trail system. The space is quite narrow, so a stern tie to one of the stern tie rings is definitely required.
Our favorite Jedediah anchorage, however, is a small, narrow, unnamed bay on the southeast side of the island. A wooden sign nailed to a tree identifies its local name as Codfish Bay. There is room for one or two boats to anchor, maybe more if you set up a stern tie. We will usually stay here if it is empty when we arrive, provided severe weather from the southeast is not expected, as it’s open in that direction.
There are trails that go all over the island, so from a hiking perspective it doesn’t really matter where you anchor because trails connect all the anchorages. It’s fun to visit the old homestead on the east side of the island, which is being
Photos by Karen Johnson
allowed to slowly decay. Some of the structures are already falling down and have been fenced off for safety reasons. There are old orchards, woodlands, and a fair amount of open pasture that is kept cropped by small herds of sheep and goats that roam the island specifically for that purpose.
A short distance from Codfish Bay next to the “official” trail, oyster shells mark the junction with a faint track heading west up the hill. This is a boater-maintained trail that winds its way to the top of nearby Mt. Gibraltar, the highpoint of the island. It may only be 450 feet high, which is why it’s actually called Gibraltar Hill on some maps, but it is fairly open at the top and has commanding views of Sabine Channel and the Strait of Georgia to the south. In the summit cairn there’s a register you can sign. The trail can be faint in places and, near the bottom, it tends to splinter into several tracks, all of which lead to the official trail. The boater trail is short, only 1 mile round trip from the oyster shells, but we love the view and always have a sense of accomplishment from the climb.
Tying the dinghy securely before hiking the island.
ANDERSON BAY, TEXADA ISLAND
Near the southeast corner of Texada Island is a narrow, oneboat anchorage, Anderson Bay Provincial Park. It is very nice in settled northwest weather, but totally open to wind and waves from the southeast so it’s important to consult the weather forecast before staying here. In good conditions, we pass by to see if it’s empty, stopping only if it is; it would be a bit tight for two cruising boats—another reason to check it out in the offseason.
From the head of the bay, a short trail leads to a dirt road/ utility right-of-way. It’s easy walking through forest, gaining almost no elevation. There are no views, just a good stretch of the legs. About 3.5 miles later you will come to some old roads/ trails, one of which climbs almost to the summit of 2,795 foot Mt. Shepherd, the highest point on Texada Island. It’s a long way from Anderson Bay, but with time and ambition (or a bicycle) it’s a big, rewarding adventure.
For a shorter hike we usually bushwack out the peninsula
Strait of Georgia from Mt. Gibraltar with B.C. mainland in the distance.
Boaters' trail to the summit of Mt. Gibraltar.
The author's Eagle 40 Trawler, Mischief, in the snug anchorage of Anderson Bay.
on the east side of the bay. From the end, you have nice views looking back at your boat, north up Malaspina Strait, and east to Secret Cove. I don’t think bushwacking is really hiking, though; you don’t get enough exercise to compensate for the scrapes and bruises. But that doesn’t stop us from doing it.
STURT BAY/VAN ANDA, TEXADA ISLAND
For many years we passed by Sturt Bay, preferring to stop on the mainland side at Westview or continue on our journey north or south. Now, we realize that we were missing out on a delightful, low key small town experience. While you can anchor in Sturt Bay and dinghy to the docks, we’ve heard there may be logging debris on the bottom so we prefer to tie to the guest dock—that is, the outermost dock at the Texada Boating Club. They are very welcoming to visitors and it’s inexpensive. There are usually Boating Club members working on their boats and a tent at the outer end of the dock serves as a meeting place for drinks, meals, and conversation with residents and visitors alike. It’s very friendly.
At the head of the dock you’ll find a map to help you explore the town of Van Anda. A short distance from the marina, up on a hill, is the Elementary School, also home to the Texada Island
Museum. Perfect for history buffs I should think, though it has always been closed at the time of our visits. Texada Island still has a major quarry operation to the north at Blubber Bay but, at one time, Van Anda did also and you can still walk to the old commercial barge dock a bit farther east. A few blocks away is a small but surprisingly well stocked grocery store where we invariably find something we need.
Even with all the great aspects about Van Anda, for us the main attraction is the hike along old roads followed by the trail to Emily Lake—known locally as Turtle Lake for the Western Painted Turtles seen here. On one trip, we stopped near the outlet, fascinated by a pool filled with tadpoles. The trail goes along the east side of the lake and the locally posted trail maps show a connecting trail continuing around the lake to nearby Priest Lake, where you can hook up with more roads and more trails. The roads are practically deserted so they seem almost like wide trails. There’s lots of exploring to do here. Van Anda has a bit of everything for the visiting boater and hiker, and it has become our preferred destination along this section of coastline.
As we’ve seen, the Strait of Georgia between Nanaimo and Desolation Sound can be a wonderful destination, whether
Hiking
Van Anda is a good place for boat chores after a salt spray soaking in Malaspina Strait. Turtle Lake is a short hike from the Texada Boating Club.
When you're hiking, some destinations are farther than others.
or not you’re there as a part of a bigger journey. Cruisers looking to get out for a hike will find good opportunities at many places throughout this region.
Michael and Karen have been cruising the Salish Sea and beyond for more than 20 years, hiking every chance they get. For more resources for hikers visit their web site at https://mvmischief.com/library/ For additional hiking information on the islands in this area Michael and Karen also recommend: Hiking the Gulf Islands of British Columbia by Charles Kahn.
sometimes think I should be working for the Wahkaikum County Tourist Bureau’s Boating Division. For the past five years I’ve regularly offered to bring fellow boaters to some of my favorite small craft destinations in this rural county along the lower Columbia River.
The pitch starts something like this: “I’m looking for a few good sail and oar boaters to join me on a summer cruise on the Estuary. There are thousands of acres of marsh, gazillions of gallons of water (mostly fresh), virtually no mosquitoes, and a fascinating variety of places to anchor, from wild, to city, to historic. This isn’t like a Carnival cruise, where someone tells you the activities for the day. It’s a ton of fun, but everyone needs to be self-sufficient, comfortable running aground (welcome to the club), content to shift plans with the weather, and adept at telling tall tales around the campfire, or wherever we end up.”
I usually get a few takers. Thus, as an employee of the Wahkaikum County Tourist Bureau Boating Division, I’d be a flop.
Perhaps some people are intimidated by the vastness of the waterway, or the lack of a fixed plan. But after years of putting me off, my old friend Dan finally gave in to my pitch and signed on for a late summer cruise in his 19-foot Ness yawl.
Launching from Elochoman Slough Marina in Cathlamet, the weather was perfect. Well, perfectly normal for this section of the river: deeply overcast with a marine layer threatening to
Dan checks his chart to make sure they don't take a wrong turn.
Miles from the nearest car, we soaked in a deep silence.
unleash moisture. The friendly and caring staff at the tidy marina always make it easy to visit. With decent docks, nice restrooms, a covered picnic area, views out to the slough, and a beer joint adjacent, it can be hard to depart. Still, a water view gives the clearest sense of Cathlamet’s history as a settlement since the 1850s, so we made a sweep upriver to gander at commercial structures perched on pilings, a small fleet of moored tugs, and a variety of residential buildings creeping up the hillside that make up the town.
Downstream in the Cathlamet Channel, the town comes to an abrupt halt at the edge of the Julia Butler Hanson National Wildlife Refuge, with its myriad back channels and tidewater islands. A thousand feet across the channel are the charming hideaways, residences, and farms of Puget Island, all protected by levees. Upon reaching the end of the island and the mainstem of the Columbia, Dan was surprised when I asked him to pause.
“Look out for ships,” I yelled, waving my arms.
It was Dan’s first time on the Columbia, and at first, he may have thought I was kidding. Realizing I was serious, he scanned a ship-tracking app on his phone to double check my visual approach.
“All clear,” he called, and we scooted to the next channel heading west. For small craft, a voyage on the Columbia affords a variety of route choices, each with joys and perils, one of which I realized I hadn’t explained.
“Dan, keep well clear of the wing dams,” I called, motioning towards the edge of the channel. “You can get pinned on those long rows of pilings—the water can move really fast as it funnels through there.”
Once beyond the dams, we tacked our way against a sea breeze pushing up the river against the tide and turned down a side channel, hoping for relief. Finding none, we pulled to the side, tied off to some old pilings and took in the view. Lush conifers clung to a cliff on the Oregon side of the river, while shrubby willows and leafy cottonwoods crowded the high spots along the islands and sandy shores. Miles from the nearest car, we soaked in a deep silence.
As conditions allowed, we rowed or sailed loosely downstream. For Dan, a Puget Sound sailor who is more used to rocks, cold water, and crowds, our leisurely approach was a novelty, as was our lack of a particular destination each day; and with no other boats around, we faced zero competition for space at a dock or anchorage. As sunset neared, we arrived at the intersection of three channels. The wind was calm, so we dropped anchor and watched the sun paint the clouds a peachy shade before the light fizzled into gray as the clouds closed in. Come morning, the sky had dropped lower, like a misty false ceiling, and dew coated our cockpit tents. We donned raincoats and continued moving west, now in silky smooth waters.
The Lower Columbia is a fascinating mix of wilderness, industry, and rustic charm.
Rowing past a swing bridge that probably hadn't moved in decades.
Regular sea breezes off the Pacific make for idyllic sailing.
Boathouses with a collection of craft are a regular sight in parts of the estuary.
A mysterious sound punctuated the quiet and, as we came past a headland, a herd of cows trotted along a levee on the mainland shore. We soon left them behind and headed deeper into the refuge’s maze of islands. Periodically we stopped to check our charts and confirm our location. The islands possess a sameness that makes it hard to differentiate one from another; and it’s easy to get lost. Since we were riding a dropping tide towards the coast, a wrong turn could strand us in a dead-end slough until the next tide cycle. Although with mud bottoms everywhere, it would only hurt our pride.
After traveling for two days, we encountered other boaters for the first time a few miles from Astoria—a raft of hefty motor cruisers. Yet even when the channel is empty of sailors, remnants of human activity abound here and, as we rounded the next bend, we were greeted by a swinging railroad bridge over a tidal river. Although intact, the rust and overgrown shrubs on its approaches indicated that the bridge hadn’t moved in decades. Passing it and heading up river gave us views of a broad mudflat where shorebirds scurried about and an eagle alighted in a tree. This would be a fine place to spend the night.
The rambling nature of our cruise made time seem to stretch on endlessly, yet I knew from checking the tide tables that tidal currents exist regardless of my perception, and the opportunity for us to turn back upriver would arrive early the next morning. Heading for the mainstem and ship’s channel, we passed a few moored tugs and a salvage ship that drew me in for a closer look. Dan sped ahead, focused on catching the flood. I soon rowed after him, finding a quiet surge of water pushing me upriver. When the sea breeze filled in, we skated along the outside edge of the ship channel, passing sand islands, then through shallows that looked almost tropical, with their reflective golden bottom. I had reached hull speed just as my rudder struck a sandbar, causing a line to part and resulting in a loss of steerage. Unlike Puget Sound, the water in the Lower Columbia is quite swimmable in August, so I waded ashore in my shorts and bare feet, beached my boat, fixed the rudder and continued on—this time more carefully.
With steady winds from astern, it began to feel as if an unseen rope was pulling us upriver, making sail adjustments unnecessary. We grinned as the wind propelled us onward for hours. In fact, we got back to Cathlamet so early that we were reluctant to go ashore. Instead, we decided to anchor for the night in a shallow slough where no larger boat could go. Heading home could wait until tomorrow.
Come morning, the prospect of a hot breakfast at The Cottage, a local bakery and restaurant, finally lured us from the river. We sipped coffee and lingered over huge stacks of blueberry pancakes.
Over another cup of coffee, Dan reviewed the highlights of our expedition. “I wasn’t sure about this place,” he said. “But it was exactly as advertised. And I’ll be back next year, for sure.”
Maybe there’s a position for me at the Tourist Bureau, after all.
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
Tugs sit moored bow to bow awaiting their next assignment.
Dan sails downwind on a fair breeze back up the Columbia.
CRUISERS SHARING SEAFOOD
PART OF THE NATURAL ORDER?
by Joshua Wheeler
There’s something about seafood and cruisers. Maybe it’s fresh sushi in Bahía Asunción, on Baja California Sur’s Pacific coast in Mexico, made by a Canadian singlehander for a US-dated Thanksgiving potluck dinner hosted by a Canadian ex-pat, Shari, at her La Bufadora Inn. Or yellowtail tacos at anchor in San Juanico aboard Grant and Noel’s Mundial , a Downeaster 38, washed down with a six-pack of Tecate
as we celebrated Grant’s two-in-oneshot spearfishing prowess. Or having a half-thawed tuna steak handed up to you from a dinghy by your La Paz anchorage waltzing partner after he discovered his daughter had turned off the freezer. Or much closer to home, the invitation to come aboard for a summer sunset Dungeness crab-cracking party with new friends in Garrison Bay, Spencer Spit, Winter Cove, or one of the thousand other idyllic Salish Sea anchorages. Cruisers sharing seafood seems part of
the natural order and worth preserving. Nationalism and borders don’t seem to hinder, and even the commercial barriers can be trodden upon. On the Pacific coast of Baja, the locals don’t care what you fish, as long as it’s not lobster. That’s their bread and butter. Still, while drinking cerveza on a local fisherman’s porch in Bahía Tortugas, he snuck me a frozen lobster tail, completely unsolicited, urging me to quickly put it in my backpack and raising his finger to his lips in the universal sign for quiet.
La Bufadora Inn, Bahía Asunción, was the scene for a memorable Thanksgiving potluck dinner with fresh sushi made by a Canadian singlehander.
Anchored in Bahía Tortuga with a lobster boat.
When names have long been forgotten or never even exchanged, the generosity and the elevated goodwill remain. I’m sure I’m not the only one having these experiences. Why does this happen? The connection between cruisers and seafood might be obvious: the sea. But before I ruin it with over-analyzing, and if I’ve piqued your intrigue, here’s a story worth sharing.
I was aboard my 1985 Pacific Seacraft Flicka 20, Sampaguita, anchored in Baie Tahauku, Hiva Oa, the Marquesas, in early
May 2024. Given her diminutive size, shallow draft, and stern anchor, I was able to tuck up close to the shore next to the Vakanui, a traditional Marquesas double canoe. This kept us in the narrow legal anchoring zone in a small harbor overflowing with cruising yachts arriving from Mexico and Panama. The legal zone is designated such because boats there won’t interfere with large ships—like the fuel barge; or the D’Entrecasteaux-class patrol ship, Bougainville; and especially the largest, a hybrid freighter/cruise
interested in sharing than the cruisers.
ship, the Aranui 5—coming to the wharf. Usually, their arrival is not a surprise. When they’re due, boats scatter from the anchorage. Some try to squeeze into the legal zone, while others are pushed outside the breakwater into the overflow anchorage with its relentless and unforgiving rolling.
Flying from Sampaguita’s starboard main shroud were the French and French Polynesia courtesy flags and, lower, off the starboard backstay, flew a US flag on top because that was where the boat
Osprey in the Bahía Santa María mangroves. The wildlife is less
Mundial and Sampaguita anchored in Bahía San Juanico, where the Mundial crew offered delicious yellowtail tacos.
was from. Just below that was an Irish flag because I had checked into French Polynesia as an Irish citizen. Technically, this last flag is not part of the etiquette, but it clarified the formality discrepancy in my mind. This citizenship check-in choice allowed me to stay longer without a visa and avoid the steep bond required of US citizens.
I was ashore at Marquesan Marine Services (MMS), the archipelago’s only boatyard. It’s a good outfielder’s throw from the cruisers’ dinghy dock and the boat ramp used by MMS to haul and launch boats. There are usually a few random cars parked around, as there is nothing so formal as a parking lot. MMS is also a cruising resource center and
meeting place, and will share its internet if you give them a tip.
I was sitting barefoot at the picnic table on the covered patio partaking in this last offering when an excited Frenchman came up and asked if I wanted some fish. Absorbed in my tasks and mentally unprepared for his solicitation, I politely said, “No, thank you.” I can’t even recall if he asked first in French or English. It took less than a minute for me to come to my senses and realize, “Yes, I would love some fish.” But by then, he had moved on. No worries. Within a couple of minutes, another of his group came along and asked me the same thing. This time, I was ready.
I slipped my shoes on and trotted off
after him through the boatyard toward the gate, where a dark-colored sedan was parked just outside. The boot was open, and three other animated Frenchmen were laughing and gesturing into it. I looked inside to see a whole tuna as big as the trunk. “Oui. Pardonnez-moi, mon Français est petit,” I say with a big smile. (Saying your French is small proves the point.) We all laughed while one grabbed a plastic bag, another cut into the fish, and the other two, in English, explained they bought it from the fishing boat tied up along the wharf. I had seen it over the past day or two. There was only one. They had more than they needed or wanted and were clearly overjoyed. Before I knew it, I had a weighty and squishy plastic bag in my hand, and the tuna in the boot was now in two pieces, missing a six-inch segment in between.
A bit taken aback by the stroke of luck and their generosity, I thought quickly on my feet. I wanted to reciprocate. I had seen this group of four Frenchmen on their boat earlier when tied to the local pier for cleaning, and I could see they had recently anchored in front of the wharf. I knew the Aranui 5 was scheduled to arrive in the morning, and they would be required to move. However, only a short time before, a neighbor of mine had left the harbor. I chimed in, “The Aranui 5 is due tomorrow. The last time it came was in the early morning. It is big. You won’t be able to stay where you are. The boat next to me recently left, and if that spot is still open, you should move there before
Boats waltzing in the La Paz anchorage.
The La Paz dance partner who shared a tuna steak.
someone else does.” I urged. ”You won’t have to move when the ship arrives. I’m the little Flicka 20, Sampaguita, stern tied in the back corner by the Polynesian boat. The one whose mast is oscillating twice as fast as everyone else’s. You can’t miss her.”
We parted ways about as abruptly as we came together, and I suddenly had too much fish on my hands. Sampaguita didn’t have a refrigerator, much less a freezer, and preservation was not an option in the tropical heat. I would have a fish dinner that evening, but I didn’t need one this big. I remembered two guys I had shared a table with down on the wharf. On the weekend evenings, there was a food truck in the port, though calling it a food truck is a bit of an understatement. You ordered and paid for it through a pleasant Polynesian woman named Hinano. (Named after the flower, not the beer.) But the kitchen was outside, boxed in behind the truck and a curiously high wooden barricade. Seating was family style at folding tables with flowery cloths, so singlehanders never sat alone, and your order was brought out to you by local teenagers. The food was delicious, and the servings were enough for two meals.
The two guys were on a boat hauled out at MMS. The owner was from Florida, and his friend from Australia had recently arrived with a replacement seal for the saildrive. With the squishy bag of fish, I called up the ladder and was invited to climb aboard for a happy hour well
Off the coast of Baja, the fish come to you. When the fishing is good, it can be really good.
Another gift of seafood, from Bruce, a local in Tuktoyaktuk, Canada, who shared a salmon with the author and his crew who were then transiting the Northwest Passage.
underway. I offered the fish, and it was cut into thirds; two for them and one for me, given back in the same squishy but lighter bag while we product-tested some rum and cokes and talked sea tales. After a bit, satisfied to have paid my excess forward, I sauntered to the dock and rowed the dinghy back to Sampaguita. On arrival, I was happy to see the four Frenchmen had seized the adjacent anchoring opportunity I had mentioned. With the evening quickly winding down, I kept dinner simple. I sauteed some onions in herbs and butter, added the still-huge tuna steak and a few squeezes of lime, and settled into a quiet and sweltering evening on the boat.
Anticlimactic? But wait. It’s not over. I awoke in the morning to a bit of hustle and bustle in the anchorage, in addition to rising temperatures and wild crowing roosters. Stepping on deck, I could see the bridge of the Aranui 5 peeking over the breakwater as she lay off the harbor, waiting to enter. She was periodically sounding her horn, an urgent monotone, giving notice to those
cruisers illegally anchored. The game of musical anchors had begun. Boats were hauling up tackle with a little laughing but more yelling. Some accepted their fate in the rolly outside anchorage. Others were determined to enter the legal zone only to be rebuffed by the boat they inevitably moored too close to. (Adding a stern anchor should be the norm, but it’s not.) Fenders were slung over gunwales to ward off advances while owners discussed the intricacies of anchoring etiquette in whatever language they could both understand. One American-flagged catamaran with a family of four seemed to be having mechanical issues, whether the windlass, engine, or both. Being the last boat, the Aranui 5’s horn was becoming more frequent with demand and impatience, while a couple of cruisers mounted their dinghies to help move the cat. Next came the Aranui 5’s impressive entrance. Her tenders, bigger than Sampaguita, were launched, and her warping lines were uncoiled as they finessed the large ship sideways into the tiny harbor and eased
her alongside the wharf.
A few moments after I stepped on deck, while the anchoring maelstrom was in full swing, music began emanating from the four Frenchmen’s boat. Quite loud. I mean, not so loud that I was bothered by it, but loud enough to hear it well. I thought to myself, “Those guys like to party.” After a bit, I identified the song as ‘The Irish Rover.’ Then it dawned on me, based on the volume and their body language, they were playing it for me! It was a salute for tipping them off to the anchoring spot the night before, saving them from participating in the unfolding mayhem. The Frenchmen clearly found the whole spectacle amusing. It’s easy to be amused when securely anchored out of the way. We waved to each other in recognition and appreciation. When the song finished, they gestured me over and gave me a bowl of fresh tuna salad as a parting gift. Within a few hours, they had weighed anchor and were gone.
Food might be the best gift you can give. If not the best, the most practical. Shrimp in Canada. Salmon in Alaska. Tuna
The Marquesan Marine Service is a boat yard, internet provider, and a cruisers' meet-up.
Sampaguita in the yard courtesy flags and all.
Lobster camp in the Bahía Santa María mangroves. The locals are happy for cruisers to fish for anything, as long as it's not lobster.
in the Marquesas. And too many to count in Mexico. I have a working theory. The generosity is about its free abundance. No cruiser has ever gifted me a Black Angus T-bone steak. But a nice pelagic fish is another story. Is your freezer overflowing with tuna? Give it away. Shot two fish with one spear? Give it away. Are your shrimp pots bulging? You guessed it. Give it away. Sure, it required some gear and licenses, but these were tools for recreation, and the ship’s larder can only be so full. And when the fishing is good, it can be really good. It’s cruiserconditioning to share rather than be wasteful. The Frenchmen bought their tuna and knew they had more than they would (or wanted to) eat or store. They expected no payment but received dividends for their generosity when I shared advantageous local knowledge. I was happy to bring the goodwill full circle.
The abundance of the sea allows cruisers to be generous, to have others over for dinner, and to empty the freezer without challenging the cruising kitty. Most cruisers are pretty protective of their budgets, expect to look after themselves, and crew from each boat tend to orbit around each other. If a group of cruisers goes to dinner, each boat pays its own. Being insular is easy and safe. Everything takes so much time and focus. Seafood offers an ice breaker to lift the veil and stretch out—a free and easy way to connect with fellow cruisers and remember that we are cruising in search of extraordinary moments. A lot of joy gets spread through the generosity of seafood. I hope it continues.
Joshua Wheeler has lived and sailed on small craft for over 15 years and 25,000 nautical miles. Credits include a 2019 transit of the Northwest Passage aboard Breskell, two solo circumnavigations of Vancouver Island in 2018 and 2023, the Inside Passage to Alaska in 2022, and a Pacific tour in 2023-24. He holds a USCG 100-Ton Inland Master’s license and 25-Ton Near Coastal, has a recurring column in ‘Lectronic Latitude and Small Craft Advisor’ called The Resourceful Sailor Series, and enjoys local small boat racing with the Port Townsend Sailing Association.
The author's observations are informed by vast experience in many corners of the world. Here he's just landed in Port Angeles after a 60-day passage from the
Ever the ice-breaker, plentiful seafood invites sharing, as here when two crews (including the author, second from the left) share gifted salmon in the Northwest Passage.
Marquesas. Photo by Larry Coxen.
OPERATION RED KITE
by Cherise Athay
CAN A RACE TEAM GET A BORROWED SPINNAKER TO WINTER HARBOUR TO SAVE THEIR VAN ISLE 360?
On a beautiful day in June, the crew of Flash set off on the sixth leg of the Van Isle 360 Race sailing from Port Hardy to Winter Harbour, the most remote stopover in the nine-stage, nearly 600-mile circumnavigation of Vancouver Island.
Flash is a scrappy 36-foot J/111 skippered by Steve Kirsch, and this was the boat’s second Van Isle. The crew was a mixture of veteran Van Isle sailors and first-timers (including yours truly). For leg six, the breeze was a fresh and consistent 12-15 knots, and our course allowed us to go from jib, to Code Zero, to reaching
kite as we rounded the north end of Vancouver Island and Cape Scott before turning south into the open Pacific.
The team even executed a flawless kite peel to the A2 running spinnaker, accompanied by whoops and cheers from the skipper and crew. The weather and scenery were gorgeous, music was playing, and spirits were high as we piled weight to the windward aft quarter and rode the swell downwind. It was shaping up to be a racing sailor’s dream day.
As we made our way south, Stephen, our soft-spoken spinnaker trimmer and a Flash team veteran, pointed out a small
tear next to the tape of a previous repair about midway up the kite. The decision was made to continue.
When it came time to jibe, the crew smoothly brought the spinnaker around to starboard, turned the stern through the wind, and the A2 filled.
Pop! RIP.
That lovely, billowy, white A2 turned into a flag, tearing across the middle nearly from tape to tape. We quickly doused and put our reaching kite back up. Not ideal, but it was a good recovery. Back up to speed and watching the
sun sink lower towards the horizon, we contemplated our options. That A2 was our only running kite. It would be a real bummer to not have it for the next leg— the infamous 170-mile downwind run from Winter Harbour to Ucluelet.
Shortly before finishing, almost as a joke, someone suggested we ask if we could borrow an A2 from another J/111, 65 Red Roses. They were not racing, and they were the nearest J/111 race program any of us knew about—located in Vancouver on the British Columbia mainland.
We crossed the finish line around nightfall, happy and tired after an excellent day of sailing, but also preoccupied by resolving the gap in our sail inventory. We had one day and one
night only to either fix our halved kite, or try to obtain a new one.
Safely into port, while most of the crew blew off steam, brainstormed ideas, and shoveled a late and well-earned dinner into their maws, our bowman Charlie disappeared to call his contact with the 65 Red Roses team. When he came back, he had promising news: there might be a kite we could use. Cheers went up around the dinner table, and we went to bed feeling hopeful.
The next morning, our skipper confirmed with their skipper—they had an old A2 available, sitting in a garage in a suburb of West Vancouver, and we had the green light to use it if we could get it. It would be placed outside the garage for someone to pick up.
The A2 and the Flash crew were enjoying a dream day until the spinnaker blew up.
Now we just needed to figure out how to get it to Winter Harbour in time.
We calculated that the kite was 8.5 hours of travel away in one direction—a 6-hour drive, 2-hour ferry ride, and 30 minutes to West Vancouver. Flash had a “roadie” support vehicle, and friends in West Van. Two crew members, Rob and Winston, immediately volunteered to make the commute to the ferry, while another tried to coordinate with friends to deliver the borrowed A2 to the ferry on the mainland side. Within minutes Rob and Winston jumped in the truck and drove off. Details of how we would get the kite into their hands remained unconfirmed, but it seemed obvious that everything would be figured out and we would have an A2 soon. Yay!
Content that a plan was in the works and being worked out, the remaining crew relaxed and enjoyed their time for the next several hours, splitting off in all different directions. It was a beautiful warm and sunny day in a stunning location. Feeling confident, one of the road warriors’ first acts on the journey was to stop at The Scarlet Ibis and have a burger and drink at the “island’s most remote pub.”
As the afternoon passed, a ping came in on the group WhatsApp channel from Rob and Winston, now back on the road to Nanaimo. “Who has the A2? Has anyone confirmed it’s going to be on the 4 p.m. ferry? It needs to be on the 4 p.m. ferry.”
Over the next 15 minutes, it became clear that we, as a team, had breathed a triumphant sigh of relief prematurely, and had dropped the ball on communication. There was no one confirmed to transport the A2 to the ferry. It was now 3 p.m.
Fortunately, Winter Harbour has enough cell service that a flurry of texts and phone calls quickly brought all the Flash team members back to the house, and we immediately got to work checking various schedules, options, routes, and combinations of private or public companies that could help us transport this A2.
We worked through our list of West Vancouver friends and friends-offriends—all returning negatives and not availables—and simultaneously converged on the idea to hire an Uber driver to pick up the sail and drop it off at the ferry.
Stephen called the ferry to determine the logistics of transporting an A2; we needed to know what instructions to give our hired Uber driver. Good thing he checked, as the ferry required someone to be with the sail bag—or “package”— at all times. That option was logistically untenable with an Uber driver. Thus, we quickly nixed any ferry option.
It would be impractically exhausting to send Rob and Winston over on the ferry to Vancouver then back to Vancouver Island on the next ferry, before driving 6 hours through the night back to Winter Harbour, only to begin the most rigorous leg of the entire two-week race upon their return. Our only realistic choice, given our resources, road crew positions,
The borrowed sail caught the evening's last flight to Nanaimo.
Winston's smile tells the story.
The Flash crew in high-tension problem solving mode trying to figure out how to transport the borrowed spinnaker.
and limited timeline, was to fly the kite to Nanaimo where Rob and Winston waited.
It was now 4 p.m.
Harbour Air had a 5:40 flight to Nanaimo, their last flight of the day to the island. We called to make sure they could accept and transport our A2 package. They could, but it would require the Uber driver to check it in at the front desk. We believed this was do-able.
Go time. We were gathered around in a circle on the porch of the rental house, staring at each other and our phones.
Given the logistics involved in this mission, we agree it would be best to speak to the Uber driver over the phone to explain what we needed them to do at multiple points in the process. Afterall, “A2 spinnaker sail bag” is not a commonly known package to pick up.
Stephen scheduled the first Uber driver, who happened to be deaf. We decided we needed to cancel. Our skipper Steve scheduled a second Uber driver, who did not speak English, so we canceled again.
Steve scheduled a third Uber driver, who also didn’t speak much English, but we all agreed to give it a shot. “It’s a package on the porch… You don’t see it? No, it’s not my house…” The driver canceled on us this time, recorded us as no-shows, and charged us a fee.
As the minutes ticked by, someone pointed out that we just handed a spinnaker worth thousands of dollars to a total stranger. “It’ll be fine,” I said compulsively, willing it into existence.
Samir called from the Harbour Air parking lot at 5:27 p.m. Stephen explained where Samir needed to go to check-in the kite for the 5:40 flight. In his calm steady voice, Stephen said, “Can you run?” He gently agreed, “Yeah, it is heavy.”
5 minutes left for check-in, and I can get your package on that flight.”
A couple team Flash members punch the air in celebration, another two sagged in their chairs in relief. I couldn’t help but dance for joy in a little circle.
The man from Seair continued, “It should arrive a little before 6:30 p.m., and the office closes sharply at 6:30. If your crewmembers picking the sail up can get there before then, we should be able to hand it to them.” The package was moving again. His service far beyond our wildest hopes, we thanked Samir profusely and gave him a significant tip along with a glowing five-star review.
Finally, Stephen booked Uber driver Samir, who turned out to be the MVP of team Flash! Samir agreed to pick up the package, transport it to Harbour Air, and check it in. He arrived at the house and saw the package. Stephen asked Samir to describe it, to make sure he was picking up the right thing. “What color is it? How big is the package? Does it kind of look like a giant pillow?” The rest of us in Winter Harbour were hanging on every word. It’s blue. It’s big. It does. Samir was on his way!
All the while, I was sending updates to our crew members on the road. It was almost 5 p.m. as Samir started the halfhour drive to Harbour Air. The timeline was nail-bitingly close.
Samir got to the check-in counter with his anxious clients on speakerphone, only to find out that we just missed the final check-in time and were too late. There was no way around it and no other Harbour Air flights. The whole Winter Harbour crew was instantly crestfallen, as the weight of our failed, all-day, allhands attempt to get the A2 sank in.
Then, the check-in lady chimed in with a suggestion. “There is another float plane company right next door called Seair, and they have a 6:00 p.m. flight. Would you like to try them?”
Our hearts rose again as a gentleman with Seair answered, listened as we explained what we were trying to do, and he promptly agreed. “Yes, we have about
I let our road crew know. Their ETA was exactly 6:30. “Speed just a tiny little bit if you can.”
At 6:26, Rob sent us a video of the plane landing. A few long minutes later, a lovely photo came through of Winston with the biggest, happiest, cheesiest smile on his face as he clutched the blue spinnaker bag stuffed with a beautiful red A2.
After such a journey to acquire it, of course we cherished that A2; but we appreciated it most of all when we flew it the next day, and every race day for the rest of Van Isle 360. We couldn’t be more grateful to the generosity of the 65 Red Roses team. Such support is commonplace within the sailing community, but would be anything but common elsewhere. It makes me proud to be a sailor, and eager to provide support similarly when I have the opportunity.
There is so much to love about sailing and racing, and the stories we collect in this sport become lifelong memories. Team efforts like this one—filled with lessons learned, good humor, and literal last-minute recoveries—are among my favorites. They remind me, and hopefully all of us, to never give up. There’s always a chance, there are always people willing to help, and anything is possible in a community like this one.
Cherise Athay is a clinical research professional in Seattle. She sails as much as she possibly can.
The Flash crew flew that beautiful borrowed A2 each race from them on.
TROUBLE IN THE PARK
EMERGENCY REPAIRS IN THE REMOTE WATERS OF GWAII HAANAS NATIONAL PARK
by Emma Biron
We were burned out and needed to get away. For many recreational boaters, this means spending an hour buying groceries and beer, casting off the dock lines, and heading out on the boat to the nearest Gulf or San Juan island to drop the hook—and there’s nothing wrong with that. But last summer, my partner and I were seriously burned out and we seriously needed to get away. So we decided to take the boat to Haida Gwaii… and live there.
Many people (even Canadians, I’m sorry to say) don’t know about Haida Gwaii. Or they still call it “the Charlottes.” Geographically, Haida Gwaii is a large archipelago roughly 200 kilometers north of Vancouver Island, 100 kilometers south of Ketchikan, and 100 kilometers west of mainland British Columbia. It is about as far north as a Canadian can travel along the coast before hitting the Alaska Panhandle. To travel to Haida Gwaii, one must either traverse Hecate Strait—a notoriously dangerous stretch of shallow water between the mainland and the archipelago—or cross the Pacific Ocean. There are no haulout facilities on Haida Gwaii; if your boat needs repairs, you must somehow get it back to the mainland.
All this appealed to my partner, Trevor, and me. After a few years of living on the Sunshine Coast—an enormously popular cruising destination—we had seen enough crowded docks, harbors choked out with mooring buoys, and anchorages filled to capacity. We had heard the north coast was quiet and peaceful—desolate, even, in places.
We planned to leave in mid-May and work our way up the coast on Trevor’s 60-foot wooden ketch, Bunga Raya. We would stop over in several places along the way, such as Calvert Island, Ocean Falls, and Shearwater before crossing Hecate Strait (at its wider, lower half) to Rose Harbour, at the southern tip of Haida Gwaii, in Gwaii Haanas National Park.
Before we left the Sunshine Coast, I purchased our park passes and did an online orientation; two requirements for entering Gwaii Haanas between June and September. It is necessary to specify when you will enter the park on your boat because visitors are limited; however, as
all cruisers are well aware, weather is unpredictable and can make fixed dates difficult to plan around. The park employees assured us that if we had to hole up somewhere for weather reasons we could change our dates, but this wasn’t necessary. On June 18, just as we’d planned a month earlier, we left our anchorage off Price Island and crossed Hecate Strait in one 16hour run to Rose Harbour.
Rose Harbour is an anomaly in Gwaii Haanas. It is the only privately owned property in the park—a small settlement on the north coast of Kunghit Island of a few homes and quite possibly one of the most exclusive “restaurants” in the world. The Gwaii Haanas Guest House primarily serves Moresby Explorer clients, but if you call on the radio and ask very nicely—and if there’s room—you may be allowed to join that evening’s meal. We were lucky. The meal incorporated locally grown vegetables from a Rose Harbour garden, as well as local seafood, and was so amazingly delicious I can still remember it vividly more than a year later. There was even live music.
Our next radio call was to the Watchmen at SGang Gwaay, a small island to the west of Kunghit. It is always necessary to radio call and gain permission from Haida Watchmen before going to shore at cultural sites. We were met on the island by the two Haida Watchmen who were currently living on the island—they rotate between the various locations throughout the season—and were taken on a tour of the historic village SGang Gwaay Llnagaay (Nan Sdins). The poles, as is the Haida custom, were being allowed to weather away, but the shapes on the poles—teeth, eyes, and claws—were still distinct and fascinating to see.
Next, we visited the hot springs, which were simply perfect; and Windy Bay, which had a modern pole and modern history as a locus for protests against exploitative logging, as well as the largest tree I have ever seen in my life. We were leaving Windy Bay to anchor somewhere safe nearby for the night when the titular trouble in the park occurred. It was a beautiful evening, but the wind was picking up, and we congratulated ourselves on leaving Windy Bay just before the wind would have intensified the experience.
We pulled into a protected cove and Trevor motored us towards the shore to drop the crab trap in the shallows. We were planning to drop the trap and then motor to deeper waters; the tides in Haida Gwaii are massive, an added layer of difficulty for recreational boating up north. As we approached the shore I noticed that I could see through the clear water to the rocks on the ocean bottom beneath us.
“Hey, we’re getting pretty close to the shore,” I said. We continued to glide towards the trees, and suddenly the shallowness of the water seemed irrepressibly alarming.
“Trevor!”
“I don’t have reverse!” he replied, cranking the wheel hard to port. Apparently, we didn’t have forward, either; we glided slowly to the left, still in dangerously shallow waters, and terrified.
“Steer,” Trevor shouted to me as he dropped our zodiac out of the davits and jumped down the six feet of freeboard into it. He started the outboard and revved it, pushing the inflatable hull into the starboard side of the boat and pushing us sideways—a
The author happily decompressing in Rose Harbour upon arrival on Haida Gwaii. She and her partner were able to enjoy the cuisine at the exclusive Gwaii Haanas Guest House.
The distinct and fascinating poles at the historic cultural site of SGang Gwaay Llnagaay (Nan Sdins).
The largest tree the author has ever seen.
With its massive heft and huge tides, if Bunga Raya had gone aground in the shallows, who knows when or if it would float again.
MacGyver bow thruster. After a few minutes of him pushing and me steering, Bunga Raya was back in safe waters once more. Trevor dropped the anchor—releasing the clutch to freewheel a couple dozen feet of chain in the span of forty seconds. We were safe, but cast under the awful shadow of what had almost happened to us.
Bunga Raya is very large and heavy, built of a Malaysian hardwood called Chengal. If she had beached upon this remote shore, we would not have been able to be rescued via tow by another boat. The tide would have gone out and the boat—all thirty-five tonnes of her, would have keeled over. Trevor would have had the fortitude to lean her uphill, at least, but unless the tides were getting larger with a waxing moon, Bunga Raya would have been stuck there for several weeks, or longer— possibly, forever.
Trevor did not allow himself much time for hypothetical horror stories. Within a few minutes, he was down in the engine room, troubleshooting. The problem was obvious: the shaft had completely separated from the gearbox, bringing the drive flange with it and dumping all of the gear box’s oil into the bilge in the process. First, we pumped the excess oil into a barrel and cleaned up any residual oil with oil cloths. We hoped, at first, that a bolt had simply come loose, but upon further inspection Trevor saw that the main bolt that holds the coupling flange into the gearbox had sheared cleanly in half.
“But how on earth is it possible that the entire motor is held together by one single bolt?” I asked, wringing my wrists a little.
“Well, it’s just the drive shaft—not the entire engine,” answered Trevor, a little obtusely. Trevor, with characteristic optimism, was cheered by the fact that the broken bolt wasn’t seized in the output shaft of the gearbox. It was easily unwound with a small screw driver and he took the halves of the parted bolt up to his workshop in the bow, which doubles as an ancillary head. The small bow workshop in Bunga Raya does not have standing head room, but it does have a drill press, band saw, and metal lathe, among many other various tools and supplies. After confirming that he did not have any bolts the same as the sheared bolt, which, being from a British engine,
The modern pole in Windy Bay has been a locus for protests against exploitative logging.
These cruisers made a beeline for the town of Daajing Giids after their close call and makeshift engine repair.
had a funky thread pattern, he decided that the best thing to do would be to bolt the bolt back together with another, smaller bolt. He placed each half into the lathe, center-drilled each, ran a ⅜ thread into the lower half, coated a ⅜ bolt in JB Weld and threaded it down the middle. It sounds simple when written out more than a year later, but how many of you have ever bolted a bolt back together in the middle of a very remote marine park? We certainly hadn’t.
Luckily, we had almost enough oil on board to refill the gearbox. As a friend of ours once told us, “Some oil is better than no oil.” With the gearbox 80% full of halfwise correct oil—fixed weight, not mixed weight—we fired the motor back up. Much to our relief, it started immediately and worked well for the journey’s duration as we made the long drive straight to Daajing Giids, the nearest port with a post office. We missed Tanu and Cumshewa Inlet, locations we had been excited to visit, in our haste to make port and resolve our issue. We motored for eight hours, cut the mark on the sandbar a little, and were drinking beers at the pub before dark, with two new bolts on their way—prudence dictated we add a spare to the order. Thus closed the most unexpected chapter of our time in Gwaii Haanas.
We had come to Haida Gwaii because we were burned out and needed to get away, and it turned out to be a perfect restorative environment—everything we had been longing for with affordable moorage rates and abundant foraging opportunities. It also allowed us to see our former lives down south with fresh eyes. The grass—or wind—is always fresher on the other side and, after a year up north, we began to miss the convenience and connectedness of our former cruising grounds. When you leave the wharf in Daajing Giids (or “DG” as locals call it), you face a minimum of a two-day cruise across hazardous waters to the nearest port with a cafe. Journeys by air or ferry are expensive and subject to weather. Trevor and I missed being able to island hop, and we also missed free shipping.
We returned south the next spring and I am now writing this story from Canoe Cove, on the Saanich peninsula. We chose to travel the less-taken route out of Haida Gwaii, shooting through
“the ditch” between Moresby Island and Graham Island and running down the remote western coast of the archipelago. We spent our first night in Armentieres Channel, our next in Tasu, and then motorsailed overnight to the northern tip of Vancouver Island to spend the night anchored off Nigei Island. Once we reached Nigei, we could relax, having left the open ocean behind. When trouble hits down here, it seems like there is always someone willing and able to give you a tow.
For better or worse, we’re never far from a cafe now. I wonder if the itch will hit us again, sooner or later, to get off the beaten track. If so, we may try for a compromise and journey to the west coast of Vancouver Island… I hear it’s pretty over there.
Wherever we go next, we’ll probably tread a little more cautiously in shallow waters and will be glad to have that back-up bolt should we ever need it. Still, these belt-notches of disasters avoided and mishaps navigated are part of what makes the cruising life so dynamic and worthwhile.
Emma Biron and Trevor are enjoying being back in more familiar waters. They just welcomed their first child to the crew.
This cruising couple's clever temporary fix for the sheared bolt.
RACE REPORT
BEST OF PITCH 2025
Bellingham Yacht Club’s (BYC) annual PITCH Regatta has been a fan favorite for 51 years. For all of its illustrious history, going back to the event’s inception as the Pacific International Ton Championship serving divisions of the IOR measurement rules, PITCH continues to adapt and evolve, and it retains its unwavering promise of a great time on and off the water.
New for 2025 was a shift away from PITCH’s legacy dates on Labor Day Weekend, and this year proved that mid-September has a lot to like, too. In the eyes of your faithful 48° North race reporter, there were at least 25 things that made PITCH great. Here they are:
25. Too many to count: Initially I was going to do the Top 51 things about PITCH 51, and I could probably think of 51 things, but I cut it in half. You’re welcome!
24. Smiles: Everywhere, all the time.
23. The wind: It really cooperated. Our team was all new to the Beneteau First 36.7 that we were racing. We had a nice practice sail in 8 knots on Saturday morning, and then it died off to give us a break. Just when we thought we were skunked, it filled in for two good races on Saturday afternoon. On Sunday we had a perfect 15-knot breeze most of the day— just when we were pretty much ready for it. By the end of the day we were almost a well-oiled machine.
22. One-design racing: There were two one-design fleets, with J/70s and Beneteau 36.7s. The event was founded on one-design sailing, and I’m happy to report that it is still going strong 51 years later.
21. PHRF racing: Run what ya brung! There was a pretty diverse PHRF fleet, ranging from legends like Eric Yaremko on S2 9.1 Flying Circus and Betsy Wareham on Martin 242 Purple Martin, to new sailors and recreational boats out on the water having fun.
20. Race committee for the win: Just when you think Charlie Rathkopf and his race committee crew can’t get better at running regattas, there he goes… doing
by Stephanie Campbell
it better! Well-run races, and intuitive course lengths.
19. Variable courses: Speaking of wellrun races, I think we used every single possible course. No two races were the same. We all appreciated the variety.
18. Come for the wind and stay for the party: That’s the iconic tagline of the event, and it’s still true. After racing and dinner on Saturday, there was a solid group of revelers who danced all the way through the encore and nobody kicked us out the door. The hospitality was legendary, as usual.
17. Cheers for volunteers: There were volunteers everywhere, making sure the operation ran smoothly. It was nice to see all the familiar faces who always help out at Bellingham Yacht Club, and a couple new ones, too!
16. The Beneteau First 36.7: It was my first time sailing on one, and it’s such a fun boat. It’s a big boat, but it’s not a monster. We ran an asymmetrical kite on the first day in a lighter breeze on our standard pole, and switched out to a symmetric kite on Sunday in a bigger breeze. Even at 15 knots or more, you can do an end-for-end jibe without too much trouble.
15. The crew of our 36.7, Heron: It was so good to race with old friends that go way back. Most of us usually race against each other, and we’re usually driving the boat instead of crewing the positions we were in for this regatta. Two of us brought our sons on board. It was great sailing and an even better occasion to catch up with friends and our kids, too.
14. The crew of Vitesse: Well done, Dave Steffen and crew, winning the Beneteau 36.7 division for the weekend. They also baked brownies and delivered them with mimosas to the fleet on Sunday morning. How nice!
13. Jorts please: Brian Pernick’s jean shorts on the San Juan 24 Obi Juan. You had to be there.
12. Free moorage: In partnership with NW Expeditions charter company, regatta participants all received free moorage. That’s a huge bonus for everyone.
11. Youth sailing raffle: It would have been even better if I won something, but lots of people did. The cute kids were selling tickets and raising money for the future of sailing. What’s not to love about that?
10. Winner winner Mexican dinner: With three flavors of enchiladas, the Mexicaninspired dinner on Saturday night was delicious, and was served with a smile.
9. Trophies: Proper trophies can be a tough task, but these were handmade stained glass sailboats—each unique and equally beautiful.
8. The Kelly O’Neill Memorial Team Trophy: It’s special each year to remember our dear friend Kelly with this memorial, and it’s a fun tradition to make up silly names for your three-boat team. This year it was won by Team BYC with a very creative name I’ll paraphrase as, Electric Larry Land.
7. The J/70 fleet: The J/Pod always raises the game when they show up. They have a strong fleet and keep moving in very little wind, just to prove that it is possible for us to be racing.
6. It’s a small regatta: While more boats really should come—and the organizers would love that—there’s something great about a small regatta. There’s less waiting for your start, more ability to respond to fleet requests, and more clean air.
5. Family racing: Our crew wasn’t the only boat with two generations on board. It was great to see Charlie Macaulay racing with the kids on a J/70 this year.
4. Bellingham: Whether for non-sailing family members who come along to hang out or for everyone after sailing, there’s never a shortage of fun things to do in this town. And with Mount Baker as a backdrop, it’s as beautiful as it is enjoyable.
3. The weather: Early fall weather is the best, and we were in T-shirts and shorts for most of the regatta. There was a little rain on Sunday morning, but the deck needed a rinse anyway.
2. Sponsored by Mercedes: Luxury vehicles weren’t given to class winners as prizes, but we all gawked at these lovely automobiles in the parking lot and
Competitive one-design starts were a feature of the weekend among the Beneteau 36.7 fleet.
pretended we were going to win one. It’s great to see sponsor support helping make events like PITCH possible.
1. Fun: It was a lovely weekend that was super enjoyable. If you haven’t been in years, go back and give it a go. If you’ve never been, I can’t recommend it highly enough. PITCH 2025 was a ball, and it’s part of a wonderful and ongoing tradition.
Thanks to the BYC crew, friends on Heron, and all of our fellow racers. I loved it!
Full results at byc.org
Photos by Debbie Kuiken.
RACE REPORT NORTHERN CENTURY 2025
Every year, Anacortes Yacht Club’s Northern Century Race throws down a challenge like no other, and this year certainly delivered on its promise. It’s an event where the wind might disappear, the currents take on a life of their own, and the only thing you can rely on is the thrill of the chase. The 100-mile course consists of a start/finish line in Anacortes, and two marks—near Point Roberts and Hein Bank—with the route to and from as well as rounding order left up to each competitor. There’s also a 50-mile option.
After my 12-year break from Northern Century—following an overall doublehanded win with my brother, Angus—it was time to jump back in. So, I joined my good friend Nige Oswald on his new F32R trimaran Kelona, joined by a fun-loving crew of 5o5 sailors: Mike Holt and Miles Johannessen. Together, we were ready to take on the San Juan Islands’ wild currents and fickle breeze.
No longer a Friday night start in mid-August, this year’s Northern Century kicked off at noon on Saturday of Labor Day weekend, with the finish potentially stretching into Monday. The forecast was a mixed bag: sunny, light winds, and plenty of transitions to keep things interesting. It would be a dance of currents, brief puffs, and tactics, with hopes of rounding Point Bob and slipping past Patos Island in the nick of time. But as the saying goes, “The best-laid plans of mice and men…”
The race fleet of 16 boats prepared off Cap Sante in a light westerly. Our main competition for line honors were the Riptide 41 Blue and the TP 52 Mist, but our fleet presented a tough challenge for the overall win. Noon arrived, the gun fired, and we were off, flying our screecher in 6-8 knots of breeze, reaching boat speeds of 11 knots as we headed toward the east side of Guemes Island. The rest of the fleet followed, except for
by Gavin Brackett
Leaving Point Roberts in the dust.
F25C Makika, which went for a flyer, heading out into Guemes Channel, aiming for Bellingham Channel.
As we passed between Huckleberry and Saddlebag islands, the great equalizer—no wind and adverse current— consolidated the fleet. We played the shifts on the east side with Blue and Mist, but Hobie 33 TC and Evelyn 32 Ratfish and a few smaller boats worked their way up the Guemes shore. They were making progress, so we used some carpet to reconnect with the leaders. As pressure began to build, we legged out and took the lead again. With a northerly breeze, we headed east of Vendovi Island and found building pressure on the Lummi shore—enough to hoist our jib for the first time. We made a few tacks up the beach in 8 knots of breeze, working towards the north end of Sinclair, and placing our bet on what seemed to
be a westerly breeze coming from Obstruction Pass and Orcas Island.
At this point, Mist and Blue had their kites up in light air along the Sinclair shore, while, in the distance, we could see Makika emerging from Bellingham Channel under kite. We had a quick drift in the transition from the northerly to the westerly breeze, then set our screecher again, heading for Point Roberts. Soon, we swapped to a kite off Point Lawrence, but jibed away from Clark Island and Barnes Point toward Cherry Point and the northern tip of Lummi Island. It was light and shifty, with another jibe toward our mark. As the breeze built, we were zooming along at 13 knots but, of course, wind is fleeting in this race. The carpet vanished near Alden Bank, and we watched as our competitors started to close the gap.
Waiting for the next breeze, we played a light northerly and made our way toward the banks. We got a shift and headed north again, but Mist was closing in. Still, we found some new breeze and started making progress. There was barely any wind, but we still had 8 knots of boat speed. As evening descended and the mark loomed closer, we decided to enjoy our provisions— Chipotle burritos—before rounding the mark and heading south. Just before the mark, the wind shifted southwest, and we had a quick kite run for the last couple of miles.
We rounded the mark at about 18:30, still in 6-8 knots of southwesterly wind. Not long after, we tacked and headed toward Patos Island. Mist was very close at about 8 minutes behind, with Blue around 12 minutes back, and Makika had made a comeback, trailing by 16 minutes. The race was still on. Mist was flying on starboard tack, holding their course and working south, while we made several tacks to the west, looking for better current and breeze. Mist managed to get ahead and pass us by Patos, but we were close and tacked toward Saturna.
The ebb was starting, the night was falling fast, and the breeze was evaporating. Mist held the lead until we neared the west side of Waldron Island. We made some good guesses and snuck past them. We debated whether to take the current and light breeze down San Juan Channel, but all the weather buoys still showed a westerly in the Straits, so we decided to head for the mark before the next tide shift. A new breeze built, and we made good time toward Turn Point.
At Turn Point, there was another restart, with Mist and Blue coming out of nowhere after getting stuck earlier. There was a lot of ship traffic, and plenty of communication in the fleet as we all drifted with the ebb, catching little zephyrs of wind. Blue snuck ahead for a time closer to Canada, but we found some breeze off San Juan Island and started making progress again. By the time we reached Kelp Reef, though, we were all drifting at an equal speed of 2.5 knots with the ebb. We tried to sail, to no avail.
Finally, we found a little breeze from the west and began to make way, and by 02:00 the pressure was building. We reached hard in what we thought was the new pressure, expecting to be 30 minutes out from Hein Bank but, of course, the wind died again. We bobbed along in tidal chop and light westerly air, finally rounding Hein Bank near 04:00 and setting the kite on a starboard jibe. We debated heading farther south in search of breeze, but we were more than 90 degrees off course, so it was
hard to turn away from the finish line.
As we worked east in the dark, we could hear the sound of a humpback whale breathing nearby and, to the west, flashes of lightning illuminated the sky over Victoria.
The morning was calm, and the first light of dawn was just beginning to show as we crept toward Davidson Rock at “isopod speeds,” doing everything we could to keep the boat moving. The wind kept shifting from northerly to westerly to easterly. As the sun rose, we could see Blue coming toward us from the southwest with pressure. The line of pressure was approaching, but it wasn’t fast enough for us to stay ahead.
Blue caught up near the southern shore of Lopez Island, and we had a drifting battle toward Davidson Rock, where another big easterly to westerly transition awaited, punctuated with intermittent southerly pressure. Blue was able to sneak ahead, and we fought to get back into the new southerly wind. With no passing lane available, we stayed farther east and continued our fight.
After sailing 107 miles at an average speed of 4.5 knots, there we were, grinding out the last miles, exhausted, elated, and a little bit delirious. After hours of drifting, dodging shifts, and reading the currents like we were trying to decipher a secret code, the end was finally in sight. Blue had pulled ahead, and we had to tip our hats to them; they were sailing beautifully. We fought for every inch, dragging our boat toward the finish with one last burst of energy because it’s never over until it’s over. The new finish line off Burrows Island Lighthouse had never looked so sweet, and as Blue crossed the line under A2, we trailed by just 5 minutes. Mist came in 30 minutes behind us, a true testament to the nail-biting nature of this race.
Huge congratulations to TC and crew for their overall win on corrected time—what a fantastic performance. And a big shoutout to everyone who stuck with it, from the relentless light airs to the heart-pounding transitions. Northern Century is always an adventure, always a challenge, and never short of beautiful moments on the water. That said, if there’s one thing we all wished for this year, it was a pedal drive, just so we could beat the plankton in the dead zones. If R2AK and WA360 can do it, so can we—though it’s the Northern Century, after all, so we’ll probably still lose to the plankton.
Full results here www.regattanetwork.com/event/30276
Mike (left), Miles (center), and Nige (right), enjoing a moment of fast sailing with good breeze.
RACE REPORT
TASAR BC CHAMPIONSHIPS
After a great Tasar North Americans at Jericho Sailing Centre last year, the Tasar fleet was eager to return to English Bay for the 2025 BC Championships. Twenty-one boats showed up, a recent record, including six boats from Seattle.
Saturday, September 6, was pleasant and the light easterly breeze slowly died, but not before two hard-fought races. In the up and down conditions, no team was able to put together two good races, and it was basically a six-way tie for the lead. The crews had a nice debrief on the terrace of Jericho Sailing Centre in Vancouver, enjoying the afternoon sun and new friends.
Fortunately, the wind showed up on Sunday, as did the 21 Tasar teams with all sorts of sailors, from novices to Olympic champions, siblings, parents, young and old. The broad appeal of the Tasar was evident in the diversity of crews. A newly energized Seattle group has been training hard—largely under-30 sailors—and the Vancouver Tasars have been getting good attendance at weeknight racing. Who would have the upper hand? The unknown was Thilo Geise, the enigmatic
10-time winner of the BC Champs. Could he come out of retirement again, sail with some family member, and win?
Conditions were perfect on Sunday, 8-16 knots of shifty easterly. Miles Williams and Farzana Mohamedali came out swinging, with a win in Race 3. Seattle's Jonathan and Libby McKee are also on the trophy, and they showed it in Race 4. Then the newest team in town stepped up and won Race 5, Leif Hauge and Yuli Betebitsky of Bellingham, with the Giese family right behind and closing fast. Then the Giese's won the next heat!
With five different race winners, the racing was very tight throughout the fleet, but the top group was especially competitive. Yet there was little yelling and no protests all weekend. Every overlap was tough to secure, and the puffy and shifty easterly proved challenging, even for the top teams. Who could step up in the last two races and win the regatta? Showtime...
Five-time World Champions, Jonathan and Libby McKee, fought hard to wind up atop the podium in this varied fleet of excellent sailors.
race, with the outcome of the final places determined on the last run to the finish. Thilo came from behind and finished second in the race and the series. Alyosha Strum-Palerm and Abbie Chipps had to settle for third after a solid regatta. The young upstarts from Bellingham ended up fourth, with Miles and Farzana rounding out the top five. Carissa Block and Jackson McKoy battled all regatta with Payne Donaldson and Kenna Reed, with the former winning by a point. Audrey Jacobs and Nils Watkins also had some good moments. Overall, a great showing by the Seattle fleet and some new faces at the top!
For Race 7, the fleet arrived close together at the first top mark and two reaches with intermittent planing followed. Somehow the McKees went from seventh at the top mark to a healthy lead at the bottom mark. They won the race and took the series lead. Then they won the next race, too, showing why they are five-time World Champions. But there was an epic battle in the next group throughout the final
Everyone agreed it was a competitive yet really fun event. Vancouver is so beautiful when the wind shows up, and Jericho did a great job with the racing and organization. It was fantastic to see the Tasar group in good health, with a mix of younger sailors and veterans, and a healthy dose of community and information sharing. Little known fact: The boat Libby and Jonathan sailed was 42 years old! The group is talking up the upcoming Tasar North Americans at CYC Shilshole September 27-28, and is looking ahead to the next Tasar Worlds in Okinawa, Japan in June 2026.
For more details, visit jsca.bc.ca
This article was submitted by the Northwest Tasar Fleet.
Photos by Dominque Labrosse courtesy of Jericho Sailing Centre Association.
$45,000
VICTORIA 30 TRINKET POCKET OCEAN CRUISER
Trinket is a classic Chuck Paine design from Morris Yachts built in 1984 under license by Victoria Yachts in Southampton, England. Built and equipped to go to sea. Radar, solar, wind vane, watermaker, Hasse sails, Yanmar 20hp, LPG stove/oven, dodger, lee cloths, Proctor spar and more. » Contact Keith Stone • (360) 421-7915 • keith.stone@hotmail.com • $45,000
$249,000
PACIFIC TRAWLER 40 ENDURANCE
A boat house kept 40’ Trawler. Powered by a John Deere diesel, averaging 2.2 gallons per hour. ENDURANCE is an Alaskan and BC veteran, having easily circumnavigated Vancouver Island. Her storage capacity, auxiliary generator, diesel heat, water maker, and general amenities make her an ideal couple’s boat. Equipped with a bow and stern thruster, simplifies close-quarter maneuvering. » Contact Stephen Makar • (509) 599-5549 • sgm-2@msn.com • $249,000
2016 BILL GARDEN TOMCAT 12' CATBOAT
“TOM” is a Garden 12 ft catboat he designed for himself. Port Orford cedar carvel planked on bent white oak frames, epoxy encapsulated, BRZ fastened and epoxy glued. Hull covered with 6 oz glass cloth, deck and cuddy with Dynel. Sitka spruce mast and spars. Dabbler sail. Full cover. TrailEx alum trailer. Located Camas WA. » Contact Ronald Render • (619) 817-5669 • boatman.usna@gmail.com • $5,000 $5,000
1983 COMFORT 38 MOTOR SAILER S/V MARTHA ROSE
Ketch Rig, Coastal Cruiser. Ed Monk Design, 1 Owner, 1994 6B Cummins-3700 hours, 1000 mile range, 2010 4 Blade Vari-Prop, 2021 Garmin Radar/Fish finder, Furuno Fish Finder, Ray Marine Auto Pilot, Dickinson Pacific Stove, Spectra Watermaker Ventura 150, 2 state rooms, 1 Head w/bathtub, 8 ft. Custom Skiff, Suzuki 6HP 4-stroke Outboard » Contact Dean & Kopi Carmine • skamokawapete2014@gmail.com • $70,000 $70,000
$19,000
21 Feet long. Hull based on mini-Transat design by Dudley Dix. Built by the Northwest School of Wooden Boatbuilding in 2011. Ocume marine plywood over interior frames. Main, jib, and asymmetric spinnaker. Lifting keel. Two quarterberths and large V-berth forward. Ample stowage. 6hp Suzuki outboard. Light, responsive and stable. » Contact David Blessing • (360) 301-3906 • blessingdl@netscape.net • $19,000
$310,000
2014 BENETEAU OCEANIS 45
3 Cabin, 2 Heads/Showers. Fully Off-Shore Sailing equipped: Furnace Heater, Fresh Water Maker, 650W Solar, Hydrovane, Full Cockpit Enclosure, Extra water and fuel tanks, Digital Engine Gauges, Radar, Gennaker Sail, Jordan Series Drogue. Single-handed sailing with furling main and jib, 3 Power Winches. Winter Boat Cover. Excellent Condition. » Contact Malcolm Crow • 1(250) 418-5196 • mpcrow1965@gmail.com • $310,000
DIDI CRUISE MINI
$45,000
1991 FOLKES 39' SAILBOAT
B.C. built, insulated steel hull, Yanmar marine diesel, 3G-30F. Full cockpit canvas, roller furling headsails, radar, autopilot, GPS, VHF, 12V DC Windlass, 45lb CQR. 2 burner propane range with oven, 12V DC refrig. Blue water cruiser waiting for her next adventure. » Contact Barbara Oakes • (360) 430-0589 • barb.oakes@gmail.com • $45,000
$49,900
Master Mariner award winning, designed by William Starling Burgess/Stone built. Wooden hull. Roller furler. Flame totally restored in 2015. Complete survey in 2023 available. “A Sailor’s Sailboat”. Located in Richmond, CA. Classic wood racing sloop. » Contact Bob • stefroche916@gmail.com • $49,900
$9,950
CATSPAW DINGHY DEJA VU STRIP PLANK VERSION
An adaptation of the original Catspaw Dinghy carvel plank design to strip plank construction which consists of 1 X 1/2 inch yellow cedar strips edge-glued. The inside and outside are fiber glassed. Transom and seating are French mahogany. There is no internal frame making the interior smooth and uncluttered. » Contact David H Lester • (253) 670-3033 • dhlester@gmail.com • $9,950
$575,000
WILLIAM GARDEN 1972 FAMILY CRUISING TRAWLER, QUEST V
Commissioned by Bill Garden as a family cruising boat for passage making. Built by the highly regarded Philbrooks boat yard in Sydney BC in 1972. Boat has spent its cruising life in British Columbia to Alaska. Commissioned by Dave and Irene Myers with exceptional details, and well built and constructed. Well maintained with many upgrades by second owner. Serious inquiries only. » Contact Tom Baldwin • (707) 387-7741 • tmbaldwin@me.com • $575,000
$25,000
1974 WAUQUIEZ CENTURION 32
Very good condition. Volvo MD-2020 (2009, 1050 hrs.). Andersen winches, Lewmar traveler. Main, Genoa, and asymmetric. Solid hull and deck, lead ballast. Plotter, VHF (with AIS), speed and depth. Propane stove and cabin heater. Very well-built, ready for cruising. Located in Anacortes. » Contact Stuart Farrell • svdiva@yahoo.com • $25,000
$80,000
1985 HANS CHRISTIAN 38T - S/V SEDNA
Moored in Sitka, AK after completing a circumnavigation of the Pacific. A true blue water ocean cruiser, ready for her new owner and the next adventure! Recent survey, upgrade list and current “to-do” list all available upon request. Major refit in 2017, repower in 2022. New rigging, resurfaced the hull, teak decking removed, new jib and staysail. Smooth open ocean sailing. » Contact Giselle Miller • (907) 209-3327 • sailing.vessel.sedna@gmail.com • $80,000
$145,000
1941 ED MONK SR. 47' CUSTOM KETCH
Recently restored custom ketch built in Seattle, WA. Very sea-kindly and easy to single hand, she has been a live-aboard her entire life. Located in Vancouver, BC, Canada in a legal, live-aboard co-operative marina. Option to purchase a share in this marina to continue living-aboard (lets you skip the 12-year waitlist!) » Contact Nancy Frosst • (604) 765-7768 • marinerboatforsale@gmail.com • $145,000
VIXEN BRUCE ROBERTS 44 CENTER COCKPIT STEEL HULLED KETCH. Built in '94, launched '98. Sailed in Puget Sound and the Inside Passage. Sturdy design, steel hulled boat constructed to be strong, safe, comfortable, and good to live aboard. 60.5 hours on John Deere diesel engine. Sleeps 5-6 with rear queen cabin, front V-berth and convertible galley bed. Presently on the hard in Anacortes. » Contact Kenneth Hall • (360) 722-0109 • khall.ahall@gmail.com • $13,000 $13,000
ANNAPOLIS
44
Sailboat project started never finished. Hull and deck in fine condition must be moved. Located in Arlington WA. » Contact Blair Matthews • (360) 631-7749 • bcmatt4@yahoo.com • FREE FREE
Amazing performance cruiser for Salish Sea or offshore. Blue water vet: Mexico, Hawaii and Alaska. Excellent condition with all the gear: near new Yanmar 4JH57 (160 hrs) direct drive; aux fuel tank; MAX prop; watermaker; ESPAR hydronic heat; RADAR; AIS; power winch for main, etc. Does it all with ease: single handed, with crew or family. Contact for full listing info. » Contact Dave Stromquist • (360) 606-9043 • dstromquist@comcast.net • $135,000
BLUE WATER INGRID 38. Ketch, hull, deck spars, keel engine mast hardware made and installed by Blue Water, interior finished by owner in Santa Cruz. Purchased 1977 launched 1982. Minimal electronics, VHF, Radar, Depth sounder, Dickenson diesel stove, Glacier Bay refrigeration, Volvo MB3D, Skipper head. This boat loves the sea, has been south to Cabo San Lucas and north to Juneau AK and beyond. » Contact Ethan Currier • (203)364-7146 • mygreenboat@gmail.com • $30,000
This gorgeous Bermudian Double Ended Yawl was designed by Paul Gartside, built by Jespersen Boat Builders in B.C., Canada and launched in 2012. The Hull is cold-molded with Western Red Cedar, Douglas Fir, Fiberglass and West Systems Epoxy. The boat is beautiful, incredibly well-built and ready to sail for any horizon! View article: https://www.woodenboat.com/onlineexclusives/la-vie-en-rose » Contact (360) 316-9370 • Rob@PortTownsendBoatCo.com • $219,900
30' YANKEE ONE SLOOP SAILBOAT
PARTNERSHIPS
SAILBOAT SHARE
1/3 sailboat share available in Kia Ora, a 2001 Hunter 340. Partnership has been active since 2008. Cost is $16K and $300 per month for moorage, maintenace, documentation, and insurance. » Contact lrschultz@comcast.net • $16,000
MOORAGE
$473,000 $473,000
VESSEL MOVING
86’ LOA End TiE bOAT sLip C-40 AT bEAuTifuL pLEAsAnT HArbOr MArinA.
8 cleats, locking dock box, rubber fender length of slip and 2 faucets, power for 30 or 50 amp. 24 hour camera security and gates to docks accessed by code only. C dock located next to fuel and pump out (dock D). Portable pump out also available. Close to boat launch. No beam restriction other than houseboats are restricted. Seller may carry contract. Liveaboards approved! brinnon@johnston-realty.com • MLS #2293883
LIBERTY BAY MARINA
40’ – 48’ – 60’ slips. Great location in Poulsbo, WA Restrooms, Showers. Call the Marina Manager for availability and waitlist options: 360-779-7762
66’ GORBON 66 ’97
$425,000
....................
“BAJAVENTO” A luxurious performance vessel that can easily be sailed shorthanded. Professionally maintained. Cruise in style and comfort.
54’ ROBERTS 54 ’79
$225,000
....................
“SPIRIT” Rugged bluewater vessel designed with comfort and safety in mind. Nicely upgraded.Coast Guard Certified for up to 42 passengers.
46’ TAYANA 460 PILOTHOUSE ’02
$315,000
....................
“PEREGRINE”One owner boat custom-built for seller. She has sailed the South Pacific and is updated and ready for another extended cruise.
70’ SANTA CRUZ 70 ’85 $199,000 “CHARDONNAY III”Turnkey Subchapter T vessel ready for business. Swift boat with charter slip and management available.
36’ BENETEAU FIRST 36.7 ’02 $88,000 “ATHENA”Performance-oriented cruiserracer with recent new engine with sail drive and new standing rigging.
45’ HUNTER 450 PASSAGE ’98 $97,500 “PLANB”The ultimate live-aboard cruiser. No compromise on space and comfort. Liveaboard slip possible.
REDUCED
37’
$225,000 “PELICAN” Extensively upgraded, fully equipped, and maintained to the highest standards. Ready to go right now!
White Express
Ranger Tugs R-27
Helmsman Trawlers
The Oyster 485 is a highly regarded bluewater cruising yacht, blending renowned craftsmanship with performance, comfort, and safety for extended passagemaking. Designed by Holman & Pye and built to Oyster’s exacting standards, the 485 offers a three-stateroom layout, a secure center cockpit, and a spacious teak interior that exudes warmth and elegance. Her powerful rig, deep cockpit, and robust construction make her equally suited for crossing oceans or exploring coastal waters. With thoughtful design details, ample storage, and systems engineered for ease of handling, the Oyster 485 has earned a reputation for both luxury and offshore capability. Discovery is an immaculately maintained Oyster 485. She has spent much of her life in the Pacific Northwest under the care of very attentive owners. Actively sailed in the summer season, then stored for the winter under a full cover with canvas and sails removed, her gelcoat sparkles and the condition of her beautiful interior woodwork appears as a much newer boat.
