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Zircon blocks are the most efficient small boat blocks Harken has ever made. At the core of Zircon performance are industrial ceramic ball bearings mounted inside caged races. The cages keep these bearings apart, so they don’t bunch up, touch, and stop each other.
Low-friction Carbo Air blocks are lightweight, strong, reliable—and affordable. Companions to our popular Harken Big Boat blocks, these small, compact blocks have very high working loads for safe, easy trimming.
Black Magic Air blocks are a top favorite of Big Boat performance racers and cruisers. These lightweight, free-running, powerful performers are used for sail controls that see lots of action: mainsheet, runner, halyard, and spinnaker systems.
Element blocks accept line from 8 - 16 mm. They are offered in singles, doubles, triples, fiddles, and footblocks in 45, 60 and 80 mm sizes.
For the complete line of Harken sailing hardware please visit fisheriessupply.com/harken
30 False Creek Inlet
An urban Salish Sea anchorage worth a visit.
By Greg Larsen34 Mischief Around Vancouver Island, Part 2
Highlights from the last part of a couple’s memorable summer cruise.
By Michael Boyd40 Alluring Alaska
The ups, downs, and rewards of cruising “The Last Frontier.”
By Andy Cross20 Three Sheets Northwest: Snagged in the Swinomish
An unusually low tide makes this tricky waterway a problem.
23 Casting Off: A Beautiful Sail in the Neighborhood Playing tour guide on a fun and satisfying daysail with family.
By David Casey26 A Northwest Sailor Navigates the Past
Making music while cruising is steeped in seafaring lore and history.
By Lisa MighettoRACING
44 Swiftsure Race 2023
An epic race ends with a broken mast… and a course record.
46 The Red Ruby Project: Round Isle of Wight Race
A gold-medal-winning pair of racing pals take on this famous race.
Eleven years ago this month, my wife Jill and I finalized the purchase of our beloved 1984 Grand Soleil 39 on Lake Union and couldn’t have been more excited. Starry-eyed youngsters, we celebrated with beers on the patio of what used to be the Nickerson Street Saloon and decided on a name while playing the dice game Yahtzee. That was it! Yahtzee. It fit.
The next day we exited the Ballard Locks en route to our liveaboard slip at Shilshole Bay Marina and had no idea what was in store for us. New to the Salish Sea, but not to sailing, we were very quickly struck by all the cruising and racing possibilities that were now at our fingertips. Accordingly, we dove right in and resolved that Yahtzee should be ready to sail away from the dock on only 15 minutes notice. Ambitious? Yes. But we stuck to it, kept the boat prepared, and got out on the water a lot.
Our first weekend trip took us over to Blakely Harbor on Bainbridge Island. That night, swinging on Yahtzee’s anchor for the first time, we watched the daylight fade and the lights of downtown Seattle twinkle to life. It seemed surreal. From there, we sailed the short hop down to Blake Island and picked up a mooring. We were amazed that such an incredible destination was so close to our home marina. The next day we ran back north to Shilshole wing-on-wing with a 10 knot southerly breeze pushing us under brilliant sunshine. It was mesmerizing. “We can surely get used to this!” we thought.
Soon after, we met a neighbor and fellow liveaboard who invited us over for happy hour where we talked charts and about all the places we could go by boat. The possibilities were endless. Then we found out about something called the Downtown Sailing Series at Elliott Bay. “We love racing — why not?” we figured. We joined in the action and had an absolute blast, and came back every Thursday night that summer.
From those first few weeks aboard, everything was clicking. We met more likeminded folks from around the marina and the local sailing community, and seemingly everyone had a way to get Yahtzee out of her slip. And that’s what we did.
We joined in other weeknight races, met fellow cruisers at different ports or anchorages, explored quaint towns and harbors up and down the sound, and joined a yacht club. One of our favorite things to do was to invite friends out sailing after work. Our go-to plan was to reach across the sound into outer Port Madison, roll up the genoa, fire up the grill, and lazily sail circles with just the mainsail. When dinner was over, we’d roll the headsail back out and sail back across to the marina as the sun set behind the Olympic Mountains. Perfection.
That first summer of boat ownership was a blur of excitement and action, and the more we went out, the longer we wanted to stay out. Indeed, we were hooked. For us, the pathway to the water in the Salish Sea was on our own boat and by simply saying yes to opportunities that came our way. But you don’t necessarily have to be a boat owner to join in the summer fun, you just have to be willing to take a chance and get out there. When you do, you won’t be disappointed.
However you enjoy the water this summer, have fun, be safe, and remember not to take the beauty and wonder of Pacific Northwest waters for granted. It’s truly remarkable.
Note: Managing Editor Joe Cline has been out chasing northbound racers as part of the Race to Alaska media team this month, and will be back with his regular letter here in the August issue…
Volume XLII, Number 12, JULY 2023 (206) 789-7350
info@48north.com | www.48north.com
Publisher Northwest Maritime Center
Managing Editor Joe Cline joe@48north.com
Editor Andy Cross andy@48north.com
Designer Rainier Powers rainier@48north.com
Advertising Sales Kachele Yelaca kachele@48north.com
Classifieds classads48@48north.com
Photographer Jan Anderson
48° North is published as a project of the Northwest Maritime Center in Port Townsend, WA – a 501(c)3 non-profit organization whose mission is to engage and educate people of all generations in traditional and contemporary maritime life, in a spirit of adventure and discovery.
Northwest Maritime Center: 431 Water St, Port Townsend, WA 98368 (360) 385-3628
48° North encourages letters, photographs, manuscripts, burgees, and bribes. Emailed manuscripts and high quality digital images are best!
We are not responsible for unsolicited materials. Articles express the author’s thoughts and may not reflect the opinions of the magazine. Reprinting in whole or part is expressly forbidden except by permission from the editor.
SUBSCRIPTION OPTIONS FOR 2023! $39/Year For The Magazine $75/Year For Premium (perks!) www.48north.com/subscribe for details.
Prices vary for international or first class.
Proud members:
THE PARTIES ARE BACK!
"Race
in Anacortes
Spencer Kunath, Navigator TP52 GloryPhotos by Jan Anderson
Dear 48° North
I'm sitting on a couch early in the morning in a vacation home in Kona, Hawaii with my family reading your "The Course Less Traveled" editorial letter from the May issue of 48° North. Well done!
The intended needle you are obviously threading to not offend our PNW boating guide pubs was well done. More importantly to me, your comments resonated on a broader life perspective. You are absolutely correct... Yelp, reviews, guidebooks, others' comments, yada yada yada are given too much weight and allow us to be a bit lazy. We rely on others to craft our paths and experiences and we have allowed the easy access of information to slightly numb our anthropological sense of wonder, and critically important, as you point out, we don't allow ourselves to create our own confident "reassurances"!
Beta Marine West (Distributor)
400 Harbor Dr, Sausalito, CA 94965 415-332-3507
Pacific Northwest Dealer Network
Emerald Marine
Anacortes, WA • 360-293-4161
www.emeraldmarine.com
Oregon Marine Industries Portland, OR • 503-702-0123
info@betamarineoregon.com
Access Marine Seattle, WA • 206-819-2439
info@betamarineengines.com
www.betamarineengines.com
Sea Marine
Port Townsend, WA • 360-385-4000
info@betamarinepnw.com
www.betamarinepnw.com
Deer Harbor Boatworks
Deer Harbor, WA • 844-792-2382
customersupport@betamarinenw.com
www.betamarinenw.com
Auxiliary Engine
6701 Seaview Ave NW, Seattle WA 98117 206-789-8496
auxiliaryeng@gmail.com
Thanks for the insightful comments and my self-imposed kick in the butt to not settle on assurances from others as opposed to building my own.
Bravo!
Roger ReynoldsHi Joe,
I just finished reading your Investment Returns article and I couldn’t agree with you more!
I’m an old duffer, and I crew on a boat with a bunch of other old duffers out of the Anacortes Yacht Club.
Over the years, the most important thing we have built is trust and camaraderie, and we all have fun. That’s the bottom line. We race against some young bucks with the open-transom sleds that fly by. Yes, they can point a lot higher than we can; and yes, they have all the latest bells and whistles. But, when it’s all said and done and ratings are applied, it balances out and sometimes we do pretty well!
There are no bad days on the water. I don’t care if it’s in a tube or a rubber raft on a calm or whitewater river, a kayak on a river or pond, or a sailboat on a lake or the ocean. It could be a little skiff for fishing or crabbing, or a cruiser putting about and exploring a hidden bay or channel for the first time. Or it could be racing, lining up for the start, adrenaline pumping, counting down those last few seconds so you’re not late nor over early and are flying to the line… it’s all fun! And attitude makes all the difference.
Keep up your good work,
Jim ReidySEPTEMBER 8–10, 2023
300 Boats, 100 Presentations, Live Music & Dancing, Local Food & Drink, Fun for All Ages!
48° North has been published by the Northwest Maritime Center (NWMC) since 2018. We are continually amazed and inspired by the important work of our colleagues and organization, and dedicate this page to sharing more about these activities with you.
48° North is part of something bigger, and we believe the mission-minded efforts of our organization matter to our readers.
Sailing is a lifelong sport and lifestyle, and just taking that first step toward learning can be the most intimidating. But when you start with the basics, getting one hand on the tiller and the other on a sheet, a world of on-the-water possibilities opens to you. Many 48° North readers and sailors know the feeling, and encouraging your regular crew of family and friends to learn more can be empowering.
The Northwest Maritime Center’s full US Sailing Basic Keelboat course is taught over five consecutive days on Port Townsend Bay. Whether you’re experiencing sailing for the first time or taking your sailing skills to the next level, this is an excellent way to receive your US Sailing Basic Keelboat Certification. All Basic Keelboat classes are taught with one experienced and certified instructor and no more than three students per boat. In order to maximize your sailing time, 80% of each course is
taught on the water.
Recent Basic Keelboat graduates have come away impressed with the instruction and curriculum: “Amber and Paul were excellent instructors. Both had a slightly different style but were fantastic at making me feel at ease, sharing information, and allowing us enough time for repetition of skills to feel comfortable. I can’t say enough good things about them. They communicated clearly and patiently supported each student’s individual needs and learning styles.”
Along with expert instruction, the setting of Port Townsend Bay is ideal for learning. “Getting back on the water in a sailboat with a very experienced sailor provided an excellent learning experience; as did the reliable winds in a beautiful setting — Port Townsend Bay.”
The Basic Keelboat full course takes place from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Monday through Friday. Tuition for the course includes the US Sailing Basic Keelboat textbook, which will be provided in the classroom or can be picked up ahead of time at the Wooden Boat Chandlery located at 431 Water Street, Port Townsend.
Available classes are: July 1014, July 24-28, July 31-August 4, August 14-18, August 21-25. Cost: $1,050, $999.50 member. For more information visit » nwmaritime.org.
EVENTS CALENDAR » www.nwmaritime.org/events
CAMPUS TOUR OF NWMC
July 5 & 12
Northwest Maritime Center
YE OLDE SHIPWRIGHT’S TOOLS
July 8
NWMC Boatshop
Jamila Gordon has been selected to serve as the new Maritime High School principal, effective July 1. Ms. Gordon is committed to working closely with students, families, staff and community partners to continue to grow Maritime High School and its programming.
» maritime.highlineschools.com
STATIONARY POWER TOOLS 101
July 22
NWMC Boatshop
WOODEN BOAT FESTIVAL
September 8-10
Northwest Maritime Center
Donate your used and useful gear, tools, hardware, and more to Marine Thrift and help us keep good materials out of the landfill while ensuring the costs of boating stay accessible to many. Located in Boat Haven, 315B Haines Place, Port Townsend, WA.
» marinethrift.org
Mark your calendar for the July 29 Pocket Yacht Palooza in Port Townsend, Washington. Over fifty small, trailerable boats will be exhibited including sail and oar, small motor cruisers, kayaks, rowing craft, and more. It’s the largest boat show celebrating small craft in North America.
The free event is sponsored by the Port Townsend Pocket Yachters on Saturday, July 29 from 10:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. at the waterfront First Fed Commons area of the Northwest Maritime Center, 431 Water Street in Port Townsend, WA.
There will be traditional wood boats as well as fiberglass,
inflatable, electric and solar-powered boats, cloth on frame, and virtually anything a boat can be made of will likely be featured. There is some emphasis on vessels suitable for camp cruising but all interesting designs are welcome and equally appreciated. As a general guiding principle, pocket yachts are relatively small (about 20’ +/-) and trailerable with an emphasis on camp cruising and small boat adventures.
PALOOZA FEATURES FOR 2023 WILL INCLUDE:
• Displays and explanations of various types of sailing rigs.
• Opportunity to see a variety of beach anchoring techniques.
• Examples of boats fully equipped for camp cruising and sleeping.
• Information on camp cruising safety.
• Options for popular home-built and kit boat ideas.
• Free skippered boat rides as available.
Many of the exhibitors, and others, will also participate in the 2023 Pocket Yacht Crooza, a three-day group cruise to Puget Sound locations beginning on Sunday, July 30. If you would like to register your boat for the Palooza or Crooza, there is no fee. Contact PT Pocket Yachters for registration and additional information. Most Palooza trailer boats will need to be in place at the Northwest Maritime Center by Friday evening, July 28.
» pocketyachters.com
Options for recreational boaters to pump out boat sewage safely and efficiently are expanding throughout Puget Sound. Traveling “pumpout boats” that come to where the boaters are is a service that more and more marinas and ports are supporting and expanding upon.
A steady increase in recreational boating around Puget Sound since the pandemic is one reason that Washington State Parks Clean Vessel Act Program (CVA) is making it a priority to help fund and coordinate with ports and marinas as they add more mobile pumpout boats to meet the growing need for vessel sewage disposal options.
Pumpout boats are currently being operated in various places from south Puget Sound to the San Juan Islands. To make it easier for boaters to find a nearby mobile pumpout boat, Washington State Parks recently partnered with Washington Sea Grant to develop a Pumpout Boat Tracker, a GIS map that locates mobile boats in real time. This tool is still in its early development stages and boater feedback is actively being solicited to help improve it.
Find a full list of mobile pumpout boats, pumpout stations and the Pumpout Washington Tracker information on the new Pumpout Washington website: » pumpoutwashington.org.
If you’ve been out on Lake Union on a beautiful summer’s day, you know what a recreational gem it is, but also just how busy it can be. In fact, usage on the lake has increased dramatically in recent years.
In an effort to manage seaplane, boat, and other watercraft traffic during the busy summer months, the City of Seattle annually installs five seaplane advisory buoys that are in place from Memorial Day through Labor Day. The buoys run in a north-south line on the lake and are visible day and night. When the buoys’ yellow lights are flashing, a seaplane is about to take off or land, and all lake users are asked to move 200 feet east or west of the buoy line. Yet many new (and even longtime) sailors, powerboaters, and paddlers are unaware of the purpose of the buoys.
For more information visit » rbaw.org/ mindthezone.
Your West Coast Dealer for La Mare Houseboats! Modern on water t iny homes, of f ices, guest houses, vaca t ion homes, “she” sheds or “man” caves! Ideal for water f ront proper ty as these are vessels and do not require any permitting!
Ranging from 26' - 50', able to live "off the grid" for up to 3 days and easily moored in a marina. Equipped with twin OB engines and steering station, or as a barge. Several models to choose from, custom interior layouts, custom finishes, and more.
Having a portable, waterproof light is a good idea no matter what size of boat you have or how you use it. Pelican Products has upped the game with their new Pelican 9000 LED light, which can be set to high, medium, or low in both flashing and static modes. With an output up to 300 lumens and a maximum run time of 75 hours, the 9000 is the ideal companion to illuminate the interior or exterior of your boat for extended excursions. When set to flashing mode, it can run up to 24 hours and provide a safety beacon for emergencies. Along with the light, it also features a watertight storage compartment to hold everyday items like phones, medical supplies, extra batteries, wallets, or keys. It operates on four alkaline AA batteries and the case includes a stand and a clip for hanging.
Price: $49.95 » www.Pelican.com
B&G sailing electronics recently announced the launch of their Hercules Sailing Performance Processor, Hercules Expansion Module and Hercules WTP, which delivers advanced data in an instant and expands your onboard sailing systems for cruising or racing. The Hercules system is the brains of the operation, using an ultra-fast quad-core processor and maximized integration options, it delivers the most accurate sailing data sets including advanced true wind calculations, motion correction and calibration, advanced heel and correction settings, boat speed calibration and advanced Starline calculations, along with Polar Tables for performance data. It is designed for simplicity and ease of installation and is compatible with existing Triton 2, H5000, Nemesis and HV displays, as well as Vulcan and Zeus chartplotters, and can be expanded to accommodate additional inputs with the Hercules Expansion Module.
Price: $1,899 » www.BandG.com
New in the winch market is Ronstan’s range of aluminum self-tailing Orbit Winches, all featuring the innovative QuickTrim feature. Four years in the making, QuickTrim allows the line to be eased without removing the handle or the line from the self-tailer. Racing sailors can react and respond instantly to minor changes in wind direction or steering, providing an advantage when frequent sail trim adjustments are required. It’s also a nice convenience for cruising sailors. With one hand on the tail of the sheet, rotating the top cover of the winch counter-clockwise against spring pressure allows the self-tailer to turn beneath it like a sheave as the rope is eased out, with smooth grip and control assured by the drum surface and Power Ribs. When the top cover springs back, the self-tailer locks again and grips the line to resume normal use. The Orbit range includes three sizes: 20, 30, and 40 for boats up to 40 feet.
Price: $649+ » www.Ronstan.com
Some sharks can produce up to 100 pups in a litter.
Some cave-dwelling fish have no eyes because they spend their lives in darkness and don’t need them.
The teeth of great white sharks can be up to five inches long.
Nurse sharks use strong suction to slurp prey off the seafloor.
In 2011, a two-headed bull shark fetus was discovered off the Florida Keys, the first known case of conjoined twins in bull sharks.
Greenland sharks, which can live for 400 years, are the Arctic’s largest fish. A reindeer and horse parts have been found in their stomachs.
The southernmost naturally occurring mammal is the Weddell seal.
1 Attaching a boat to a post
5 ____ sounding: measurement of the depth of a body of water
1 Attaching a boat to a post
8 Distance between high and low tide
1 Imaginary line that is at right angles to the equator
Down
2 Person who has title
3 Arctic surface
Boring sponges are known to severely weaken concrete pilings that support bridges.
A group of barracuda is called a battery.
5 ____ sounding: measurement of the depth of a body of water
9 Directional aid
10 Shore downwind of a ship
11 Undefined amount
12 It could be north or south
15 Rainbow shape
16 Address to a naval officer
17 Alaskan city and a sailing term
19 Gala, for example
21 Maintenance
24 Triangular sail
4 Whale pod
1 Imaginary line that is at right angles to the equator
2 Person who has title
3 Arctic surface
At the University of California’s Joseph M. Long Marine Laboratory, sea lions have been taught to videotape gray whales.
4 Whale pod
used
5 Broad area
While about 350 species of shrimp have potential or actual commercial importance, only about 30 are traded internationally in significant quantities.
6 Line used to raise the head of any sail
7 Shore
Both shrimp and lobsters are cannibalistic.
13 ____ hitch: used to finish typing off the foresail
In the United States, scampi refers to a cooked dish of shrimp in garlic butter sauce, but originally it was an Italian term for a Mediterranean crustacean that grows six inches in length.
Some caves in Kentucky are home to a species of transparent, eyeless shrimp.
Cleaner glass shrimp, which are transparent, are popular with saltwater aquarium owners.
» See solution on page 51
Mantis shrimp have the world’s fastest punch, with speeds of 75 feet per second, or about 50 times faster than the proverbial blink of an eye.
We felt the first bump just north of the train bridge on the Swinomish Channel.
“What the hell?” I thought. “We are definitely right in the middle of the channel. We shouldn’t be touching bottom here!”
We were through the obstruction so quickly, I barely had time to react and throw the engine into idle. It was a very soft impact, likely just the normal soft mud and sand that covers this wellworn route to and from the San Juan Islands. The depth gauge quickly returned to the 12 to 14 feet that it had been reading prior to that.
I figured it had to be some sort of anomaly. I have transited this well marked, approximately 10-mile channel on the east side of Fidalgo Island maybe a dozen times before in sailboats of various sizes, and I had never once touched bottom or even gotten close.
Was it time for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers to dredge the channel again? Clearly, it must be their fault for letting the bottom creep up in places.
We kept motoring south toward La Conner, on our way back down to Puget Sound after completing a few weeks of projects on the boat in Anacortes. It was some welcome downtime to play in the San Juan Islands for a few days before the summer cruising season really kicks into high gear.
Although we typically cross the Strait of Juan de Fuca on
our travels to and from the north, I have always found the Swinomish Channel to be an interesting and fairly picturesque passage when we have used it. Navigating it is a fun challenge for a number of reasons, including using the ranging marks in the south entrance to keep mid-channel and also trying to figure out the mysterious current that has bedeviled mariners probably since the channel was created.
I was actually feeling pretty smug just before we bumped. I wanted to make sure the current was flowing in the right direction for us, and I had successfully used the rough rules of thumb for the Swinomish Channel currents to plan our passage on this late spring morning.
The current in the channel can run several knots, so it is something that we full-displacement boat owners need to take into account. In general, the current flows north between 2.5 to 4 hours before and after high tide, plus 30 minutes, as measured at the Seattle tide stations. It generally flows south about 2.5 to 4 hours before and after low in Seattle, plus 30 minutes.
On we went toward La Conner. I kept a very close eye on the depth sounder and our position in the channel. I definitely didn’t want to drift out of the deepest part of the ditch.
Once again, I saw depths ranging from 12 to 17 feet, and all was well. Then suddenly, the sounder dropped to 10 feet. Then 8. The shallow depth alarm rang from the multifunction display just before we again bumped the bottom, with downtown La Conner only a few hundred yards ahead of us. Crap!
Yet again, it was a very soft impact and we were quickly through it. But I was flummoxed. What was going on? Yes, we were getting close to low tide, but this seemed ridiculous. They were definitely overdue to dredge the channel, clearly.
The Swinomish is dredged to a width of 100 feet and a minimum depth of 7 feet, at least according to the chart I was reading. And our Passport 40, Rounder, draws just shy of 6 feet.
The tide was still falling as we continued on our way south. I knew that it was supposed to be at its lowest at 11:47 a.m. and we still had about 30 minutes to go. I thought about stopping at La Conner, grabbing a bite for lunch and waiting a few hours for the tide to start rising again. But the thought of losing this positive current and a desire to make it to our planned stop that afternoon in Langley convinced me that we should continue on.
Somewhat dismayed by the two groundings, the plan was to take it slow, be careful, and assume that the south entrance to the channel would be dredged to the charted depths.
For the next 30 minutes or so, I was pleased with how things were working out. While the depth meter hit an uncomfortable 9.5 feet as we made the 90-degree turn at Hole in the Wall, it mostly stayed in the 11 to 12-foot range.
As we traversed the straightaway on the south end of the channel, I kept to dead center, using those ranging marks to confirm the GPS position I was seeing on the multifunction display.
I was close to breathing a sigh of relief as the last of the red buoys marking the shallow water of the channel hove into view and then crept closer. Just a few hundred yards to go.
Then, for the third time that day, the shallow water alarm went off as the depth sounder quickly plunged from 12 feet down to 6 and then 5. We were already going slow, and the boat came
The boat turned perpendicular to the channel after running aground. Fortunately, it didn’t move outside the main channel.The MFD shows the boat stuck in the middle of the Swinomish Channel.
to a gentle stop as we stuck fast in the middle of the channel. There was no bumping through this time.
The current was still moving south at about 1 knot. Rounder slowly turned perpendicular to the channel and heeled over about 5 degrees to starboard as the current pushed against our beam.
After checking the bilge and confirming that we were not moving toward either side of the channel, we settled in to wait. The crew was okay. The boat was okay. But my ego was in tatters.
I knew that we just had to wait for the tide to rise. We didn’t feel the need to call for help or to panic. We made a second pot of coffee and kept a close watch to make sure nothing in our situation changed for the worse.
Of the dozens of boats that passed us, only three slowed to check on us or offer help. Luckily, one of them was willing to use his depth sounder to let me know how shallow it was ahead of us. He checked, came back and told me that I was looking at about 5 feet for the rest of the channel.
As I sat there pondering what went wrong, I soon discovered my error. It turned out that it was a minus 2.5 foot tide that morning. In all my efforts to figure out the time and direction of the current in the channel, the one thing I failed to take note of was just how big that low tide would be. I pounded my forehead on the wheel of my stuck boat for making such a stupid error.
The 7-foot depth the Corps dredges to is for a zero tide. When you subtract 2.5 more feet from that, you end up aground in a sailboat.
The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers had done their job. It was a skipper in a hurry who didn’t do his.
About an hour later, as the water crept higher, the wake from a passing boat jostled us just enough to break us free from the bottom’s grip. We turned the boat back toward La Conner, knowing that at least there was enough water for us if we took the same route again.
A few hours — and a few more feet of water — later, we made it through that last stretch of the channel.
The crew was fine. The boat was fine. And the skipper had once again learned not to get complacent when tackling a tricky bit of navigation.
Marty McOmber is a Pacific Northwest sailor, writer, and strategic communications professional. He is currently working on refitting and improving his 1984 Passport 40, Rounder, for continued cruising adventures near and far.
Asurprising but now obvious realization for me as a new boat owner is understanding the many functions that a boat can fill for its passengers and skippers. It can be a means of transportation, of habitation, of competition and, of course, recreation.
Except for racing, our Columbia 28, Ariel, has provided all of those services and more. For my wife Laura and I, our nearly 50-year-old sloop has, for us, filled yet another role: a host vessel for guided tours of the Tacoma waterfront and surrounding areas.
After spending most of the winter and early spring without passengers, Ariel returned to her role of tour boat for friends and family visiting from their distant homes during the idyllic summer weather in the South Sound. When guests visit, they are always thrilled to hear that a sailboat cruise is on the agenda, eager to go for a ride on the water regardless of their length of stay.
On a recent trip to Tacoma, my in-laws were recipients of our local waterfront tour, with Laura’s dad, Bob, and his wife, Michelle, filling the role of both passengers and crew. While he did spend a few years in the Navy, stationed in Cuba during the Cuban Missile Crisis, Bob has never spent any time piloting a small sailboat, but I knew that he would love to take a turn at Ariel’s helm.
We arrived at the marina late in the morning, with wind and sky conditions looking beautiful, and began our sojourn in Commencement Bay with a quick refresher course of Ariel’s layout and safety equipment.
Still somewhat new to the routines of sailing, and cautious about our
by David Caseyprecious onboard guests, Laura and I checked the list of tasks needed before we disembarked: jib hanked on to the forestay with sheets bowline-tied to the clew; main halyard clear of the shrouds and its shackle locked into the cringle of the mainsail; gear safely and securely stowed below; engine idling comfortably, and then, of course, dock lines released.
With the list confidently reviewed, I piloted our touring vessel out of her slip, knowing how close I could creep in reverse towards the rocks that densely occupy the basin hillside before putting our 9.9-horsepower Yamaha in forward, narrowly missing the prow of White Rose, a Bristol Channel Cutter that is moored adjacent to Ariel
Then, I slowly rounded the corner of the boathouses on our neighboring dock and the uncovered slips for sailboats. As we pass by the stern of the boats, Laura often waves to anyone on the moored vessels, proudly carrying the mantle of ambassador, like the grand marshall of a marine parade. For me, our departure feels like a journey through our modified water-based suburban neighborhood,
with a nod to home/boat owners who may be polishing the brightwork, rather than mowing the lawn.
I maneuvered us past the Vashon Island Ferry, heading out from our ideally located harbor. The path of the massive ship crosses in front of the egress to our marina every hour or so. Even when docked, its huge idling engines churn up the water at the mouth of the harbor while it loads the car commuters on their journey to the small island across Dalco Passage from Tacoma.
When the coast looked clear (literally), I handed the tiller to Laura and she turned head-to-wind as we prepared to hoist the mainsail. It was nice to have extra hands aboard, and I offered duties to our new crew. I lended a hand from the foredeck, yanking down on the halyard from the base of the mast as Bob tailed from the cockpit.
Up next was the jib, and Bob grabbed that halyard while Michelle wrapped the sheet on the winch. There was a light breeze, so the process went smoothly. I asked Laura to head to starboard and the sails slowly filled with air, gently heeling Ariel, reminding us to cut the engine. In the mild 6-8 knot northerly breezes, Laura maintained the tiller for a while, juggling the navigation signals of the wind hawk atop the mast, the telltales on the sails, and the heading that we’d chosen. When the wind kicked up a bit, she was eager to offer the tiller to another pair of hands.
Usually, the helm would be passed to me, but today we offered the piloting duties to Bob, who enthusiastically accepted. As evidenced by his expression, it was easy to see that he loves being on the water, as long as the temperature is mild like today, or better yet, warm. Bob and Michelle live on the big island of Hawaii, on the dry Kona side, spending days either snorkeling or relaxing on the beach. While a far cry from the tropical breezes and sun-drenched days of the Pacific islands, the Puget Sound weather for our tour was a wonderful reward for residents who have held out through the cold winters of the Olympic Peninsula.
We maintained a course along the Point Ruston waterfront, no doubt spreading envy to the land vehicles and pedestrians who were watching us from shore. Continuing southward, we pointed
out the historic Stadium High School perched on a distant hill, displaying its famous late-19th century brick architecture like Harry Potter’s Hogwarts School of Wizardry.
As we made our way towards Thea Foss Waterway, we saw two nautical sentinels north of the colossal grain storage silos: the S.S. Cape Island and S.S. Cape Intrepid. Originally commissioned by the US Navy, the ships are now owned by the Maritime Administration, and sit at the ready in the event that the government needs them, whether for delivery of supplies after a natural disaster, or support during a military conflict.
I asked Bob if he’d like to be spelled a bit and he shook his head, committed to piloting Ariel for as long as possible on our afternoon journey in the bay. Laura interjected, “How about a little lunch while the wind is calm?”
We prepared to tack towards open waters and the East Passage, which would take us to Seattle given more time. But not today. Keeping in sight of our home harbor is a comforting feeling for our passengers.
With all hands prepared to tack, I told Bob to turn to port as Michelle trimmed the main sheet and Laura took care of the jib sheets. I waited for the jib to backwind and gently pull Ariel to port. “OK. Stop the turn… and trim the sheets.” Just like that, without a hitch, we were now heading toward Maury Island, adjacent to its big sister, Vashon.
We then eased the sails out a bit more for a reach and brought out the charcuterie; cold cuts, crackers, and beer. Taking in the sights of Mt. Rainier at our stern and the Browns Point Lighthouse to starboard, we marveled at the splendor of Ariel’s backyard playground.
Sharing moments on the water with friends or family has proven to be an enjoyable highlight of sailboat ownership, with many benefits. It is rewarding to be able to give back to those for whom we care, allowing them to share in the joy and beauty of our new surroundings after having moved to the Pacific Northwest about two years ago.
An unexpected benefit of sailing with guests on Ariel has been the opportunity to slow down both physically and mentally. Husbands and wives are
often more patient with friends and acquaintances than they can be with each other on the boat, as evidenced by a T-shirt that I recently saw that read, “I’m sorry for the terrible things I said when we docked.”
Although for Laura and I, docking is usually a smooth process as I have learned to slowly guide Ariel into her berth. The conflict that all too often occurs is my desire to push our tired old boat as fast as she can go while out in the open waters, often making for a wild ride.
But with guests on board, our goal is to make them feel as comfortable as possible, showing them not only our newfound sailing prowess, but
instructing them on some of the “finer” points of sailing.
After we wrapped up our picnic lunch, we tightened the sheets and headed upwind with increased speed and a bit of heeling. I was cautious to keep Ariel stable for the group so we fell off to a reach for a few minutes and then completed a few tacks to return us to the harbor.
As we approached, I told Bob to head into the wind as Laura and I lowered the jib and then the main. The whining Yamaha engine reminded us of its indispensable role as it took us past the Vashon Ferry once again and we returned to our neighborhood of boat houses and finger piers.
I once again took the tiller and piloted our tour boat back through the marina, with Laura gently stepping onto the dock and securing the lines that once again nestled Ariel into her berth. After unhanking the jib and reflaking the main, we poured ourselves a glass of wine and relaxed for a while in the cockpit before returning home. It was truly a beautiful day in the neighborhood.
David Casey is a retired math teacher and semi-professional woodworker and bass player. He plans on using his retirement to build a small sailboat and a kayak, and to explore the waters of southern Puget Sound.
The man by the fire pit was getting weepy. Sure, it was late and a number of microbrews had been sampled, but he was clearly moved by something deeper than alcohol or fatigue. “I haven’t heard those old songs in ages,” he said, turning to his daughter beside him. “I used to sing them with my dad.”
As the fire turned to embers and the group began heading to their boats for the night, he lingered, flipping through the songbook one more time to savor the music of his youth. One of the elders of our sailing club, he had always seemed aloof and unapproachable to me. Yet now he looked at my husband Frank, who had provided the evening’s impromptu entertainment, with misty-eyed appreciation. Not for the first time, I marveled at how music can bring generations of boaters together. Like just about everything, music is better on a boat or a dock, offering the perfect way to bond with fellow cruisers.
Music has always been important aboard boats along the Northwest coasts. Indigenous seafarers in cedar canoes approached the ships of 18th century explorers with welcome songs, greeting Captain James Cook, for example, with music of “a very agreeable harmony” when he sailed into Nootka Sound on Vancouver Island in 1778. Cook responded in kind, ordering his crew to “to lay a tune” with a fife and drum. The Native musicians countered with another song, prompting the British sailors to bring out their French horns.
Captain George Vancouver recorded similar observations in 1793 on his voyage to the Northwest coast. “The chiefs generally approached us with the ceremony of first rowing round the vessels,” he wrote, “singing a song that was by no means unpleasing.”
by Lisa MighettoCook further observed the Native canoeists striking “their paddles against the sides of their boats with such exactness as to produce but a single sound,” adding that “each strain ends in a loud and deep sigh, uttered in such a manner as to have a very pleasing effect.”
The canoe songs of Indigenous people, sometimes accompanied by drums, rattles, and whistles, reflected the rhythms of paddling. Today, Northwest tribal members continue to incorporate music into the Annual Canoe Journey through their ancestral waterways. [Erna Gunther, Indian Life on the Northwest Coast of North America; The Journals of Captain James Cook; The Voyage of George Vancouver, 1791-1795, vol. III].
Rhythm was key to songs of the sea. The recent sea shanty (or “chantey”) craze on social media rekindled an interest in the early music of tall sailing ships, which used rhythm to help sailors perform repetitive tasks in sync. It is easy to imagine the crew operating a heavy capstan or windlass in unison to the refrain of “Way hey, blow the man down…” Sea shanties borrowed heavily from the music of enslaved people who sang rhythmic songs when loading ships from the dock.
In addition to work songs, off-duty sailors played fo’c’sle songs on the foreword deck for entertainment. The regular, heavy tempo and “call and response” format of these songs encouraged participants to join in, particularly during the
chorus. “The Wellerman,” a whaling song from the 19th century, became a viral hit on TikTok during the height of the pandemic, as it was repeatedly shared, remixed, and embellished. Mariners baseball fans now sing “Soon may the Wellerman come / To bring us sugar and tea and rum,” dancing to its catchy beat at games in Seattle.
For all their jaunty, festive vibe, sea shanties have a dark side, often describing the miserable conditions on board, the dangers at sea, and a longing for home or port. Some lyrics are racist. Yet, a few short years ago some of these old songs spoke to a new generation, who, when faced with the despair of a Covid-19 lockdown, bonded over shared hardships, celebrating camaraderie and resilience.
Every cruise presents an opportunity to continue maritime musical traditions. Frank and I have friends that carry a karaoke machine on board and we know people that have hosted a brass band on their ample-sized bow. For years, we heard about a legendary “dinghy concert” at Prideaux Haven in Desolation Sound, where entire bands played from the stern of a host boat. Our friend Todd, who attended this event one summer, was most impressed by the large audience of small boats packed into the inlet. “If you saw someone you knew 10 dinghies down,” he recalled, “you’d just swim to them. It was the easiest way to get there.”
Some boaters, particularly those just starting out, may prefer smaller, simpler gatherings with compact instruments and music that can be easily shared with all participants. And we have found that nothing works better than songs about boats and cruising. It’s what we all have in common, after all.
Our repertoire includes music that people are likely to recall fondly — popular tunes that go beyond sea shanties and “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.” Beloved ballads such as “Sloop John B” by the Beach Boys and Gordon Lightfoot’s “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald,” with its haunting riff, are crowd pleasers. While the music is about boats, mostly focusing on recreational cruising, it addresses universal themes and stories that resonate widely.
Songs about the joys of travel and voyaging are always appealing. Consider, for instance, the lyrics to Enya’s “Orinoco
Flow”: “Carry me on the waves to the lands I’ve never been … Sail away, sail away, sail away…” Or Jimmy Buffet’s “Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes,” which includes a line many of us can relate to: “So many nights I just dream of the ocean, god I wish I was sailing again.” Boats, according to country singer Kenny Chesney, are “vessels of freedom” — and who can argue with that?
Boating songs can promote family and a sense of continuity. Buffet forges a charming connection with his daughter in “Delaney Talks to Statues,” for instance, assuring her that “Shells sink, dreams float / Life’s good on our boat.” In “Son of Son of a Sailor” he explains that his love of the ocean is inherited, singing “the sea’s in my veins, my tradition remains.”
Some boating songs are bittersweet, and lost youth is a common theme. Buffet’s well-known “A Pirate Looks at Forty” evokes nostalgia for his personal past as well as for bygone eras, characterized by the “switch from sails to steam.” One of my favorites, “The Skye Boat Song,” was recently given new life by the series “Outlander.” This dreamy tune is not the original song about Bonnie Prince Charlie, but a musical rendition of a poem by Robert Louis Stevenson, which begins “Sing me a song of a lad (lass) that is gone…” It is as much a longing for a place as it is about childhood, and though it recounts a journey through the waters of Scotland, the lines “Billow and breeze, islands and seas / Mountains of rain and sun…” could easily have been written about the Salish Sea.
While many boating songs are fun, some descend into melancholy. Sting’s “Valparaiso,” for instance, offers a poetic account of his heavy burdens: “And every road I walked would take me down to the sea / With every broken promise in my sack…” If you haven’t heard this mournful, lovely song, which has the feel of a historic tune, I recommend checking it out. One of the best-known songs in this category is Otis Redding’s classic “Dock of the Bay,” which describes how his selfreflection slides into inertia as he watches “the ships roll in” and then watches them “roll away again.” Unable to do “what ten people tell me to do,” Redding concludes that “nothing’s going to come my way,” so he sits on the dock “wastin’ time.” So evocative are his lyrics that you can almost smell the salt air as you feel your energy draining.
In a different way, Buffet’s “Margaritaville” also explores
the theme of “wasting away.” Although its lively melody gives the song a light feeling, it is self-reflective, and, at its heart, regretful. While there may be “a woman to blame,” the singer comes to realize that it’s his “own damn fault.”
Hard partying is another recurring theme. “Margaritaville” celebrates “that frozen concoction that helps me hang on,” as the singer examines his choices, as well as his new tattoo, through a boozy haze. “Get yourself a coozie,” advises Little Big Town in the song “Pontoon,” and “reach your hand down into the cooler.” Meanwhile the “president” of the Redneck Yacht Club pops “his first top at 10 a.m.,” and members make “waves in a no-wake zone.” Such descriptions of the sailing lifestyle go way back. What do you do with a drunken sailor? Boaters have been pondering that question for centuries.
Several boating songs explore loftier themes of perseverance and healing. One Beach Boys song, for instance, presents a litany of nautical complaints, each ending with the refrain “Sail On, Sail On, Sailor.” Styx’s “Come Sail Away” — revealed in an informal poll at my yacht club to be a favorite boating song — is about endurance and persistence (“But we’ll try best that we can / To carry on…Come sail away with me, lads”).
The idea that sailing can mend the soul is widespread. “The canvas can do miracles,” promises Christopher Cross in “Sailing.” Crosby, Stills & Nash’s “Southern Cross” fits this category. I have always loved this tune for its references to a “noisy bar in Avalon,” sailing into Papeete, and seeing the Southern Cross for the first time – all of which I have experienced and can relive through the song. Yet “Southern Cross” is about much more than travel and adventure — it tells a story of how the sea can restore us, in this case helping a sailor recover from a breakup. Across this extraordinary range of perspectives and themes, these maritime songs help connect boaters, who recognize their own lives and experiences on the water.
Frank and I use several paper song books and paper sheets that can be distributed, but they take up space on our small boat.
Mostly we consult a tablet, accessing apps such as SongbookPro and OnSong. And the internet is a rich source for learning basic chords.
Which instruments are best on board? Some musicians find that smaller instruments, which are easier to store and carry, work best. Many of our friends prefer ukuleles and small traveling guitars, which are portable and relatively inexpensive, as well as easy to learn for those just starting out. Frank and I bring a guitar and a mandolin on our longer trips, which increases the versatility and appeal of our repertoire, though they can be a hassle to transport. Our brother-in-law, Steve, a professional trumpet player, brings a pocket version of his instrument on his boat. Water and condensation can damage musical instruments. For this reason, our friend Cheryl uses a carbon fiber guitar, which is relatively “immune to the wet environment” on board.
When Steve plays a tune on his pocket trumpet, surrounding boaters typically clap and request an encore. But he’s an excellent musician who knows how to please a crowd. It is important to consider neighbors when playing loud instruments; we find that the sound of trumpets, banjos, and mandolins can carry far, potentially disturbing others. Cheryl is especially conscious of noise. One evening, she closed all the hatches and quietly strummed her guitar in the cabin. Soon came a knock on her hull. “Oh, no…” she worried, assuming that another boater had come to ask her to keep it down. Instead, she emerged to find a man with a guitar, asking if he could join in. There really is nothing like music to bring boaters together.
Lisa Mighetto is a sailor and historian living in Seattle. For information on music and boating, she is grateful to Matt Herinckx, Olympia Yacht Club; Steve Stanley, Oakland Yacht Club; and Todd and Cheryl McChesney, Seattle Yacht Club.
For more information on Annual Canoe Journey: preservewa. org/carrying-traditions-by-canoe-the-tribal-journeys-movementin-washington/ and muckleshootcanoejourney.com/ Maritime music events, including sea shanties: maritimefolknet.org/
Eelgrass beds are sensitive habitat
False Creek Inlet is a shallow, narrow anchorage right in the heart of downtown Vancouver, British Columbia. Staying on your boat in the inlet allows you to take daily shoreside excursions to explore the third largest city in Canada. The interesting and enjoyable sights of this historic city are all within a short dinghy ride from your moorage location. Anchoring in False Creek Inlet is sure to provide a unique urban cruising experience in a bustling waterway that you will not regret… or forget.
The name of False Creek Inlet is actually a misnomer. When George Henry Richard surveyed the surrounding area in the 1850s and 1860s he thought he was traversing a creek, when really it was an inlet. The inlet has been used for thousands of years by the indigenous peoples of the area. In the early 1900s, False Creek became an industrial center that housed many sawmills and port operations. Today, there is very little industry still operating on the creek, with one exception: the Ocean Cement Company. Visually, you can’t miss this cement operation on your starboard side as you enter the inlet, which features tall silos painted with cartoon characters. Once past it, the inlet opens up and it’s time to look for a spot to drop the hook.
When coming by boat, the entrance to False Creek Inlet can be found on the southeast side of English Bay, cutting eastward into downtown. The hustle and bustle of Granville Island, with its public market and shops, are located just south of the western entrance. Science World is located at the far east end of the inlet, with BC Place Stadium and Chinatown a short walk away.
Care needs to be taken when anchoring in False Creek, not because there are lots of hazards, but due to the numerous local boats anchored in the snug confines of the inlet. Pick your spot wisely. Make sure you don’t anchor within the channel leading in and out of False Creek Inlet, or get too close to other vessels. If you anchor in the channel, you may be asked to move or, worse yet, get a ticket.
There are three bridges that cross the creek. Be sure to verify your mast height before passing under them. We found our Hylas 44’s mast was too tall to transit under the Cambie Bridge, which is the farthest east of the three.
Once you are anchored, make sure you get an anchoring permit. Boaters need to get a permit to anchor in False Creek when they are anchoring for more than 8 hours during the day (9 a.m. to 11 p.m.) or anchoring anytime between 11 p.m. and 9 a.m. the following day. This permit allows you to anchor a maximum of 14 full or partial days of 30 days during high season (April 1 to September 30) and 21 days of 40 days in low season (October 1 to March 31).
For more information about where to anchor and how to obtain the anchoring permit visit: vancouver.ca/streets-transportation/anchoring.aspx
If anchoring is not your thing, there are also a few marinas that offer moorage. Another option would be to pick up a reciprocal privilege slip at False Creek Yacht Club, if space is available.
You don’t need to worry about where to land your dinghy while hanging on the hook in False Creek. Dinghy access to shore is available at designated public wharf areas, and there is a 3-hour time limit. There are seven different dinghy docks that dot the shoreline along the inlet and, as with any urban area, some precautions should be taken to make sure your dinghy stays put while exploring the sights of the big city. We always chain up our dinghy while out on the town.
If you don’t want to run your dinghy around False Creek, you don’t necessarily have to. Instead, you might find it fun to just dock your dinghy and ride the little passenger-only ferries. These small, 10- to 15-person capacity ferries transit the entire length of False Creek, with nine different stops. They flitter back-and-forth along the creek from 8 a.m. to 9 p.m. daily. You can buy a one trip ticket or an all-day hop-on-hop off pass.
Pacific Central Station is a great place to pick up and drop off crew. The station was originally named False Creek Station and was built in 1917 to serve as the terminus to the historic transCanadian Railway. Today, Amtrak and Greyhound bus services can be found here. The “Central” station is just a few blocks east of Science World. Even if you are not picking up or dropping off crew, it is well worth visiting this historic building.
Similar in some ways to famous Pike Place Market in Seattle, Granville Island Public Market is a must see destination when visiting False Creek. Located on the western edge of the Inlet, you can even find some short-term moorage for smaller vessels and dinghies right in front of the market.
The market itself has a variety of different types of shops. And if you need fresh provisions such as vegetables, fruits, and meats — this is a place to restock. The market also has lots of different take-out food that you can eat while watching the activities along the waterfront.
On the other side of False Creek, downtown Vancouver has a world-class Chinatown. The entrance can be found 1 kilometer
northeast of Science World. The busy Chinatown grew up during the flourishing expansion years of the 1880s and 1890s. During those boom years, Chinese immigrants came to work in the mines, farms, and logging industry that operated around the Vancouver area. These days, you can find numerous shops and some of the best authentic Chinese cuisine in Canada. Additionally, there is a large Chinese Garden to stroll through, which contains well manicured grounds, numerous koi ponds, bridges, and pagodas.
Cruising with kids? If so, then remember to walk along the south shore seawall. Along the walk, the kids will not be disappointed. Every so often, you’ll come across play structures and different big toys for your kids or grandkids to play on. You might find it hard to get them to move on once they start running, jumping, climbing, and swinging on all the kid friendly toys.
There is also a seawall that runs all the way around False
Creek Inlet and Stanley Park. Capping the shoreline originally started in the early 1900s to protect Stanley Park from eroding into the sea. When the seawall was completed in the 1980s, it capped 30 kilometers of Vancouver’s shoreline. Today it is used daily by walkers, joggers, bicyclists, skateboarders, and inline skaters.
It is always nice to get an ice cream cone from one of the vendors, and there is nothing like sitting down and enjoying your cold treat, while watching people and boats cruising the False Creek corridor.
Be sure you stop at the Kids Market, which is close to the Granville Island Public Market. The Kids Market has lots of shops that cater to the younger crowd, but not only that, it has numerous arcade games that are sure to make your young ones smile.
Science World, also known as TELUS World of Science, is at the east end of False Creek Inlet. It is the number one kid attraction in Vancouver. It was originally the EXPO Centre for the 86 EXPO fair and has been repurposed into the science center with rotating exhibits. Science World is for kids of all ages and has a 400 seat OMNIMAX theater that offers extraordinary educational movies.
You don’t even need to get off your boat to enjoy False Creek Inlet. It is fun to just observe the activities along the creek from the comfort of your own cockpit. While relaxing with a hot cup of coffee in the morning or a cold beverage in the evening, you can gaze at the small passenger ferries zigzagging back and forth, kayakers and paddleboarders slowly stroking their way up and down the waterway; as well as dragon boats racing along the inlet.
After a fun filled day of exploring downtown Vancouver, it is rewarding to just relax while the sun slowly sinks in the sky. As the light of day disappears, the street, navigation, and building lights come on making for some dramatic evening views. You will not find a nicer urban anchorage in British Columbia than the one at False Creek Inlet.
Greg Larsen is a cruiser and racer with a lifetime of sailing experience. He and his family have been cruising the waters of the Salish Sea from Olympia to Alaska for decades.
Introducing the stunning 2008 Tayana 54 Deck Salon, designed by the renowned naval architect Bill Dixon. This yacht is a true masterpiece, combining exceptional performance and luxurious comfort in one stunning package.
Step aboard and be greeted by a spacious and elegant interior, featuring a raised salon with panoramic views and a beautifully crafted teak and holly sole. The natural light floods the space, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere that is perfect for entertaining or relaxing with family and friends.
The Tayana 54 Deck Salon is a joy to sail, thanks to its superior design and engineering. With a powerful yet easy-to-handle rig, this yacht can handle any weather condition with grace and ease. The spacious cockpit is designed for maximum comfort, with plenty of seating and storage space, perfect for extended cruising.
The 2008 Tayana 54 Deck Salon is the perfect yacht for those who demand the best in luxury, comfort, and performance. This yacht is a true masterpiece, designed and built to the highest standards, and is sure to impress even the most discerning yachtsman. Don’t miss your chance to own this beautiful yacht and experience the ultimate in yachting luxury.
After leaving Seattle and heading north, following the east side of Vancouver Island, the crew of the Eagle 40 trawler, Mischief — my partner Karen and I — had cleared the first hurdles of our ocean-side transit of the wild west coast. We were proud to have explored and enjoyed our passages around Cape Scott and the Brooks Peninsula. As we continued south, we would complete the circumnavigation we’d been dreaming of for years. Next stop, the Bunsby Islands.
The Bunsbys are a small group of islands off the coast that were the initial site of sea otter reintroduction to the west coast in 1972. The undeniably cute, furry critters are now found as far away as mainland British Columbia and even Puget Sound. After an easy 9 miles from Columbia Cove, we anchored in a cozy spot called West Nook, inflated the kayak and went exploring. Immediately, sealife abounded. We watched sea otters lounging in the kelp, humpback whales feeding in the passages, and lots of seabirds — gulls, terns, guillemots, murrelets, osprey, and more. Back at the boat, as we prepared the dinghy to explore the nearby shore, we noticed the beach was already occupied — a black bear had beaten us to it and was busy turning over rocks. So we changed our minds and stayed home, instead planning for the next day’s short hop to Kyuquot Sound.
Our first stop in Kyuquot Sound was Walters Cove just inside its entrance, which has a small community with no road access. The cove itself has a complicated approach, thankfully well marked with buoys and beacons. Walters has a large community dock, a pretty good store, and a nice little restaurant/coffee shop called Java the Hutt where we spent a couple of hours relaxing with their free WiFi. It was time to catch up with home.
From there, we headed for Dixie Cove Provincial Marine Park, an almost totally landlocked cove with beautiful turquoise 70-degree water. The incredible location and the warm, sunny day definitely called for a swim. Karen jumped in while I put on my wetsuit. We spent two days here then left to explore more
of the inlets and anchorages of Kyuquot Sound; the weather continued to be beautiful.
Rugged Point is on the edge of the ocean but has a nice, protected nook on the inside of the point with a short hike to a beach on the outside. It was sunny where we anchored but in the quarter mile or so to the beach, the conditions changed to cool, wet fog. After exploring for a while, we walked back and moved the boat to a more sheltered cove nearby. Named Petroglyph Cove in our guide book and Blue Lips Cove on the chart, it was a lovely, scenic anchorage with only one downside… no VHF reception.
Leaving Kyuquot Sound turned out to be our most exciting passage on the west side of the island. The day dawned crystal clear with a slight breeze — perfect, or so I thought. But since there was no VHF reception in our anchorage, we had to go by feel, without a weather report. At the entrance to the sound, it was calm and we opted to go for it. As we worked our way offshore to the 120 foot line on the chart, chosen to ensure we would be well away from any coastal hazards, we realized the swell was much larger than expected, 6 to 10 feet as we later learned. But once we turned south for Nootka, the next sound, it was all coming from behind us and was almost fun in the beautiful sunshine. If we had heard the forecast, we probably would have stayed where we were, but we were never in danger and had a positive learning experience in ocean waves.
Near the middle of the island, Nootka Sound is the largest of the five sounds, and is dominated by Nootka Island in its entrance with inlets radiating off in different directions. We started our exploration right at its entrance with Nuchatlitz Provincial Park. The entrance winds its way between islets and hidden reefs and, even though it is marked by buoys at key spots, we were still grateful we had a chartplotter. Inside is a large bay with room for many boats, though we were the only one, which is separated from the ocean only by a plethora of
low islands, reefs and sandbars. At high tide, many of them are under water and some swell enters, with the sound of the surf being ever present. The effect was enhanced by the fog which is common along the coast.
From Nuchatlitz, we headed up Zeballos Inlet, because it is particularly scenic as it reaches into a more mountainous region of Vancouver Island. With its high, steep, and rocky sides, it reminded me of some of the mainland BC inlets. At its head is the tiny village of Zeballos, a former mining community with a public dock. While there were only limited supplies available there, it did provide a wonderful opportunity to stretch our legs with another hike, this time on a boardwalk along the Zeballos River, where we saw lots of bird life.
Leaving Zeballos, we continued circling Nootka Island and sighted a large raft of sea otters slowly paddling along. It was quite the sight to see so many otters — an animal that was once extinct along this coast. We went up another inlet to the town of Tahsis where things were hopping! There was a salmon tournament going on and everyone was back in port weighing their fish. It was the busiest place we had been since we left Port McNeill three weeks prior.
Nootka Sound has a fabled history. It was the center of exploration and trade by the late 18th century Spanish and English explorers with names like Quadra and Vancouver, and First Nations chiefs like Maquinna. Their traditional meeting place was near Friendly Cove, located at the southeast corner of Nootka Island. Friendly Cove is now a First Nations community with one of the few manned lightstations on the coast. Visiting with the light keepers and the Friendly Cove hosts was a highlight of our trip. We especially enjoyed visiting the Catholic Church, which surely must be unique, filled as it is with carvings from First Nations beliefs. Like other coastal villages north of it, Friendly Cove is a thriving, vibrant community that has no road going to it. Of course, everyone has a boat.
We continued exploring Nootka Sound by heading to Bligh Island (yes, that Bligh.) The anchorage is at the head of narrow Ewin Inlet, which actually faces the ocean. I thought there might be some sense of the ocean in the cove but all swell and ocean winds were long gone by the time they reached the head. It was a lovely spot.
The weather in Nootka Sound had been mostly mild and sunny with little fog away from the coast; but now we had to plan our journey out into the ocean once more, around our next major west coast challenge, Estevan Point, and on to the next cruising destination, Clayoquot Sound. By this stage in our journey, I was worried a bit less about seasickness and a bit more about the time. We had already used five-and-a-half weeks of our eight-week vacation and we were only down to the middle of the west coast.
We had calm, though rainy, weather while rounding Estevan Point and stayed well offshore. The third major challenge of the Van Isle coast was now behind us and our reward was a visit to Hot Springs Cove, located in a small inlet at the north entrance to Clayoquot Sound. This has to be one of the most popular attractions on this side of the island. We anchored in the cove with a number of other boats, including old friends we had seen before, and watched a seemingly endless stream of tour
boats and float planes, mostly coming from Tofino, drop people at the dock for the one mile boardwalk trek to the hot springs, then pick them up again in an hour or two to head back to their starting point. We waited until after dinner for the crowds to leave and our reward was having the hot waterfalls and pools almost to ourselves. I especially liked the hot/cold pool with sea water coming in on every high wave, all with views of the ocean.
The first float plane arrived at 8:30 a.m. so we gave up on Hot Springs Cove and started our exploration of Clayoquot with Sydney Inlet where basking sharks have been reported. As we headed up the inlet Karen spotted one in the distance. We watched it for a while through binoculars as we continued up the inlet and, on our return an hour later, we were surprised to see it again, in much the same place as before. On closer inspection, we found it was actually a floating log with a finshaped branch sticking up. We will definitely be looking out for more “basking logs” in the future.
One of the large islands in Clayoquot Sound is Flores Island, with narrow Matilda Inlet cutting in its eastern shore. In the middle of the inlet, on its west side, is a small collection of buildings and a long dock that makes up the community of Ahousaht. We stopped at the dock to check it out and talk with the local proprietor. A bit farther is a side inlet that houses a major First Nations settlement, Marktosis. At the head of Matilda, our destination all along was a small bay with a hiking trail out to Whitesand Cove on the ocean. The mile-long hike was lovely except for the skies, which were solidly gray over the ocean.
At the south entrance of Clayoquot Sound is the town of Tofino, which is connected to Victoria by a paved road and is a substantial population center and major tourist destination. It is also very busy on the water. We wanted to stop but couldn’t find any dock space, and there was no obvious place to anchor nearby, so we decided to pass it by and continued on to Barkley Sound.
Barkley Sound is the southernmost sound and at its northern entrance is the town of Ucluelet. Like Tofino, Ucluelet is a tourist town, and much like tourist towns everywhere, it is welcoming but busy. It even has a small aquarium, which is where we finally identified the By-the-wind sailors we had marveled at throughout our cruise. We liked Ucluelet and stayed two
days in the well protected marina. In addition to the expected restaurants and shopping (including a surf shop), there are a number of spectacular hiking trails along the coast, including one out to the lighthouse at Amphitrite Point.
We enjoyed our stint in civilization but, after a couple of days, wanted to head out into Barkley Sound to Pipestem Inlet. Other than signs of past clear cutting, Pipestem was lovely and remote. We piloted Mischief from the flybridge to maximize the view and while most of Pipestem is deep, the delta at its head has a narrow band of shallower water where it was possible to anchor. It was a lovely place for lunch, but we judged the anchor to be not set well enough to stay the night so we continued on to the Pinkerton Islands.
The Pinkertons are a small group islands just off the Vancouver Island shore that have a number of small bays for anchoring. Each bay is just large enough to handle one or two boats. Another boat came into our bay and anchored, so we kayaked over to say hello. They insisted we take a couple of pounds of fresh-caught prawns as they were running out of freezer space. We couldn’t refuse. It was warm and sunny where we were but, looking in the direction of the ocean, we could see fog coming into the Sound.
We continued to explore the inlets deep into Barkley Sound, going into each one and looking around before heading to the next one. In the afternoon, we headed for the Broken Group, the large group of Islands in the middle of Barkley Sound that are part of Pacific Rim National Park, and anchored in Joe’s Bay near the center of the group. The only occupants were a group of kayakers at an established campsite on the shore. The ocean fog was thin and wispy here but enough to temper the sunshine. We
Our time was coming to an end. We had dawdled up north, and Barkley Sound is large with much exploration potential, so we had to leave most of the nooks and crannies for a future visit. But this was part of the plan, to avoid time and deadline pressures on the cruise. Luckily, Barkley Sound is close enough
to Seattle that we can come back directly from the south, without having to make the long journey around Cape Scott. We made our way to Bamfield, at the southern entrance to Barkley Sound, which would be our jumping off point for the journey back home through the Strait of Juan de Fuca.
We arose in the dark and left our anchorage in Bamfield Inlet at dawn, along with the fishing boats, and motored out into dense fog, dodging crab buoys for the first hour, which was very nerve racking. Navigating by chartplotter and radar, we avoided the blips of deep drafts and small fishing boats, none to actually be seen. The fog suddenly parted just outside of Sooke, near Victoria, and we were instantly greeted by a lone killer whale passing us right off our bow.
Our planned 8-week trip to the west coast of Vancouver Island could have taken at least 12, and we’d left much unseen. Our GPS log read 1,156 miles, and the worst seas we encountered were on the first day in Rosario Strait. I never did get seasick. We met fascinating people and visited enchanting villages. The west coast is not actually as remote as some other cruising regions of British Columbia; but compared with our experiences in those other regions, there were very few cruising boats and we had many anchorages all to ourselves. We definitely need to return.
For years, we dreamed and prepared for this journey, and certainly other cruisers will want to be sure they and their vessels are ready for the rugged west side of Vancouver Island. But once you are, you can be assured of extraordinary surroundings and a most memorable adventure.
A month after this trip, having weathered 24/7 togetherness for two months, Karen and Michael were married in Seattle.
Michael and Karen have been cruising the Salish Sea and beyond for more than 20 years, the last 11 aboard Mischief, a 40foot Eagle pilothouse trawler. They're out cruising now — follow their journeys at www.mvmischief.com
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There are times aboard our boats when everything seems to run counter to expectations. We’ve all been there. This particular time, our family was blasting into a sudden 20-to25-knot northerly headwind towards Alaska’s rugged Kenai Peninsula. With Yahtzee heeling sharply to starboard, I braced myself in the cockpit and did my best to keep our progress steady to windward. Of course, it happened to be raining, too, and not just a light mist. The heavy downpour rendered my old foul weather gear all but useless. Nearly soaked to the bone, I could barely see the wave sets through my glasses let alone the telltales on the genoa — the little pieces of nylon were, like me, hopelessly sodden.
It was somewhere around four in the morning on a Monday, and I’d just told my wife, Jill, I’d take her watch. She and the boys would be better off sleeping, or trying to sleep, instead of being on deck in this mess. With daylight arriving, the miles wore on and I tried to keep my
head in the game. We’d already come 120 miles from Afognak Island, north of Kodiak, and there was no turning back, no pulling in somewhere for rest. Not yet, anyway.
Gripping the helm with cold, bare hands, rain still pounded hard on deck and my mood turned uncharacteristically sour. I cursed the wind: it was supposed to be out of the south, not north. I cursed the rain: it was supposed to be clear, not raining. I cursed our old blown out sails that were struggling to keep us making way to windward: deep down, I knew they were toast.
That’s when I stopped myself. “Snap out of it, Andy,” I silently chided while wiping drops of rain from my face. “Just sail the boat. Embrace it.”
Our boat and crew weren’t in any danger and the conditions weren’t really that bad. They just weren’t what I’d expected. Plus, this was sailing. I was doing what I love with the people I love. On we went toward Resurrection Bay and eventually Prince William Sound, and I chalked the moment up to a “cruiser’s case of the Mondays.”
A couple hours and several cups of coffee later, we weaved our way through tall, rocky islands off the Kenai Peninsula and then the breeze completely shut off. I turned my gaze south to look back across the expansive Gulf of Alaska and much to my surprise, I watched in astonishment as the trailing edge of the rain moved over us to reveal bursts of sunshine. Shortly after it passed, the wind came up from the south. Finally! Reaching now under the bright morning sun, the cockpit slowly dried and I shed my jacket. Sigh.
That evening, sitting on a sun-warmed pebbled beach, I gazed out at sweeping mountains with glaciers hanging in prominent valleys. Yahtzee sat just offshore in a sea so clear I could pick out every rock and piece of seagrass below. The boys splashed and swam in the water, laughing as they jumped in and out, and I couldn’t help but chuckle too. The day was certainly turning out better than it had started. What a Monday.
The unpredictable weather had humbled me, proving once again that wind and waves make the rules, we just
play by them. I’d learned this repeatedly over the previous four months while sailing north from Puget Sound up to Southeast Alaska. There are ups and downs, we just have to keep going.
Now, though, it was getting into August and summer at 60 degrees north was going to rapidly transition to often-harsh autumn. Our last destination for this round of Alaska cruising would be Prince William Sound (PWS) to the east, and I needed to turn my attention to the days ahead.
The next morning, we chugged north up Resurrection Bay toward Seward, where our crew was eager to tackle boat chores so we could head to PWS on what we hoped would be a good weather window. But we all know how that goes. Seward provided the perfect chance to do laundry, take showers, and provision, but we didn’t know much about the town when we arrived. It was unexpectedly
breathtaking. Mountains shot straight from the sea on nearly all sides, glacial waters ran through the marina, and the picturesque town of over 2,000 residents seemed like an outdoor lover’s paradise.
When preparations were finished, it took some coaxing, but we finally ripped ourselves from Seward Harbor and headed south to a nearby anchorage. After some fishing and deliberation about the weather, we dropped the anchor to the north of Fox Island Spit and backed in near shore. Jill and Porter found a huge dead tree stump half buried in the gravel and creatively slung a shore tie through the roots. We were set.
The sun was out in full force by then and, bobbing just boat lengths from shore, we made for the beach like cruisers possessed. It had been a while since we’d had this much warm sun and we were ready to take full advantage. Between swimming, playing catch with
the football, paddling the crystal clear waters, and making up games with driftwood — all in the shadows of tall mountain peaks — it was one of those high moments that makes you forget about the lows.
From Resurrection Bay, we turned east to make our way towards Prince William Sound. The sun continued its splendid residency over the area and, just five minutes after dropping a fishing lure in the water, the reel was zinging. I yelled “Fish on!” and methodically reeled it in, hoping not to lose the prize. Jill got the decent sized coho salmon in the net and then went to work filleting it on deck. Dinner.
If the previous day had been our idea of Alaskan cruising paradise, this one was poised to give it a run for its money. Finding a similarly tranquil and scenic
anchorage, we once again headed for shore. With the afternoon warming, we poked around the beach and foreshore areas and lazed away on warm rocks. Our salmon dinner was soon on our minds and when the thought of leaving the beach to cook aboard Yahtzee came up, I said, “Why don’t we just get a beach fire going and cook the salmon over it.” That’s all it took to cap off yet another magical day in Alaska.
We woke the next morning to a thick blanket of fog and I instantly knew the weather was turning. With thoughts of sunshine and crisp mountain views behind us, we motored through the gloom into Bainbridge Passage. Fortunately, as we pressed onward the fog lifted enough for us to not only see where we were going, and other boats if
there had been any, but to catch glimpses of immense glaciers emerging from tall peaks meandering down to the water, orcas spouting, and a blanket of tall islands spread out in front of us. We’d made it. The weather didn’t matter. This was Prince William Sound.
One of our first stops before diving into the heart of cruising PWS was to pick up my dad in Whittier. He joins us every year for some cruising fun, and each time he’s aboard it’s a highlight. This was no exception. He got a true taste of Alaska cruising at its finest and in a place that not many people get to experience.
Stretching from east to west, Prince William Sound is roughly 85 miles wide from north to south, and a similar distance across. It is ringed with tall mountains blanketed with snow and with glaciers
that snake down to the water — in many ways, it’s a larger version of Southeast Alaska’s Glacier Bay. The Chugach Range makes up the northern edge of the sound, pressing sharply skyward from the sea and its craggy peaks are a sight to behold. The southern edge of the sound is made up of green, mountainous barrier islands that have a picturesque feel that’s all their own.
We arrived in the sound with no cruising guide and little in the way of information from friends and fellow cruisers who’d been here before, so we simply set out to explore it with the charts we had. After leaving Whittier, we kept going clockwise around the northern portion of the sound, including dodging ice on a motorsail up Columbia Bay to see its namesake tidewater glacier. Popping in and out
of small coves, anchoring in a different stunning place each night, life rolled along fluidly for the five us. We stopped in Valdez to get fuel and resupply, then worked our way south and eventually back towards Seward. We weren’t ready for summer to end, but it was clearly fading; nights were getting cooler and the presence of fog was increasing.
Throughout our short time in Prince William Sound, what we learned most about cruising here is that you can simply poke around under sail and power, uncovering anchorages, and roaming empty beaches — that every nook and turn can be as magical as the last. There were so few other cruisers it felt like the place was our own.
When we sailed into Alaska months prior, we were fully expecting a wide range of experiences. We also knew that every step of the journey, high or low, would be incredibly rewarding and worthwhile. To be sure, Prince William Sound represented an ideal end to an astonishing spring and summer of cruising from Southeast Alaska to Kodiak Island and then up to the Kenai Peninsula. It certainly took some ups and downs to get here, but it was all worth the effort.
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Legend for Over 25 Years”Andy Cross is the editor of 48° North You can follow his family’s cruising adventures at SailingYahtzee.com. Yahtzee anchored and stern-tied at Fox Island Spit.
True Wind Speed: 32, 34, 36, 39… BANG. The rig folded in half between the first and second spreader and collapsed to leeward. What had been a roaring and raucous ride was suddenly eerily quiet. However, when you are lucky enough to sail with a team as determined as the one I was a part of on the Riptide 35 Terramoto for the 2023 Swiftsure race, it’s never over until it’s over.
While countless sailors have done many more Swiftsures than me, I have been lucky enough to finish six over the last eight years. While Swiftsure can get a bad rap for strong currents, light air, and un-settled seastates, it remains the granddaddy of all Pacific Northwest distance races; and if you want a taste of open ocean sailing, the 40 mile stretch of water between Race Rocks and Neah Bay is an ideal place to test your boat and your crew.
The buzz around the dock on Friday was one of nervous energy. As ever, there was talk of weather models, a jumble of acronyms like ECMWF, HRRR, GFS, and NAM. For our team of six on Terramoto, we had a simple view of the weather prognosis for the race. If it was cold out on the ocean and warm towards the interior of Washington, it was only a matter of time before the westerly wind would start to pump in from the ocean. We had a talented crew of Seattle area sailors: Bill Weinstein the owner and skipper, Stasi Burzycki on the main, Herb Cole on the sheets, Tim Scanlon doing the pit and navigation, AnaLucia Clarkson on the bow, and myself as the floater and tactician.
The Saturday morning rush can be anxiety provoking, as boats try to un-raft and get out to the 9:00 a.m. start. However, we had a
plan and we stuck to it — 6:50 meet in the lobby, 7:00 breakfast, 7:20 walk down to the boat, 7:45 lines off. We had a slow motor out to the start line going over our final checks, getting the main and jib up and checking batten tensions. We were all ready to go but there was an important ingredient missing…wind! There was no sign of the forecast 15-knot westerly, and instead we were left to grapple with a light southeasterly.
We were the second start so we had the benefit of watching the Hein Bank and Swiftsure Classic boats navigate the minefield of wind holes and current rips that lay between the start and Race Passage. The lead TP52, Glory, had a good start down at the Clover Point end and was leading the fast class. However, we chose to start farther up toward the middle of the line in order to keep our options a little more open. Annapurna and Manifest were both looking strong down on that Clover Point end when the gun went off for our Cape Flattery Race start. While we all had spinnakers up, we could see the advancing westerly and knew it was only a matter of time before jibs would be going up and we would be getting into the grind of a 50-mile beat out to Neah Bay. We managed the transition fairly well and sat just behind Annapurna who was leading our class. However, as the wind built we managed to shift gears well and lead our class at Race Passage.
What followed was a test of judgment and seamanship as all the boats had to manage a jib change due to the heavy weather. However, if you did it too early, you would be underpowered and wallow in the current-induced short chop. Do it too late and you would run the risk of damaging sails and wearing out your crew. On Terramoto, we kept our sail selection simple and changed directly from the J2 to the much smaller, J4. This is no simple task on Terramoto, as you have to hank on the J4 on an inner headstay and then douse and remove the hanks from the J2 on the outer headstay. However, we had a drama-free change and with the J2 safely in the bag and down below, we began the long starboard tack slog across the strait.
As the fleet made its way over to the Washington shore, a three boat drag-race developed between us, the J/125 Hamachi, and the Farr 39CR Tachyon began. The wind reached as high as 28-30 knots but we managed to hold our own with the longer and heavier boats. Both Hamachi and Tachyon found their way around us by Neah Bay, but we were thrilled to round the mark in third on the water.
By this point, the wind had abated to 18-22 knots so we set the heavy A2 spinnaker and began our sail back to Race Rocks, taking a few digs towards the Washington shore before the long port jibe drag race toward Sheringham. The wind continued to build until the true wind speed rarely dropped below 25. Top boatspeeds were now in the low 20s, but Terramoto was still under a reasonable amount of control. With the breeze pumping and the waves short and steep, we were wishing for a smaller spinnaker to reduce the stress on the boat and crew. Like most boats optimized for Pacific Northwest racing, though, our heavy air spinnaker inventory was sparse. As a consequence, we had to carry on with the big kite and just try to keep the wheels on the bus.
As we approached Race Rocks, we opted to play it safe and douse the kite about a mile west of the lighthouse before
heading up and jib-reaching through Race Passage. With the seas flattening out and sharp jagged rocks to leeward moving farther behind us, we all took a big sigh of relief. Maybe that relief was a sign of our own hubris as we set the kite again in what seemed like diminishing breeze in the lee of Vancouver Island. Suddenly, not 1 minute after our set, the wind was over 30 knots again and building
That brings us to where we began, 8 miles from the finish with a broken mast and a sense of uncertainty of what to do next. Herb and Bill quickly reminded everyone that finishing was still an option, even with our compromised sail plan. After cleaning up what we could of the carnage, Herb sprang to action and began to rig up the storm trysail as a sort of jury-rig jib between the bow and what was left of the mast Excellent, an extra knot of speed! So it was that we limped back to Victoria and crossed the line just after sunset, first over the line for our fleet.
Our challenges were not over, however, we still had to find a way to pull the main down so that we could undergo our final race obligation: the safety inspection. We elected to take down the main well inside the harbor where the wind was lighter. After some deliberation and a small amount of squabbling, we managed to free what was left of the main from the mast and get it back down to deck level — thanks in large part to Ana’s clever problem solving and Herb’s willingness to pull harder than anyone else. We made it to the dock just after 10:30 p.m. and had our lines graciously caught by the crew of the J/35 Tahlequah
For our team, it was a bittersweet finish. We were pleased with the result and the race we had sailed; and were honored to have set a new Cape Flattery Race course record, beating 1D48 Flash's previous record by 43 minutes. I was particularly proud of the way the team managed the challenges of the race, especially the final hour after the mast broke. It was a performance to be proud of and a reminder that discretion can be the better part of valor.
The Swiftsure Race remains an important test for any racer in the PNW. It can offer a taste of tough ocean conditions, light and heavy, and aid a crew in discovering not only the limits of their boat, but also themselves. Every single one of the Swiftsures I have done has taught me something important, this year was no different. Next year when we return to Victoria, I know we will all learn something yet again.
Boats are things that take us places. They can also be so much more, even a way to connect with old friends. When my regular partner Alyosha was unavailable for the Round Isle of Wight Race in England, I asked my longtime friend and partner Carl Buchan to race with me on Red Ruby
Way back in ancient history (1981), Carl had asked me to sail with him in the Flying Dutchman, and we became a pretty good team over the next three years, eventually winning the FD World Championship and an Olympic gold medal together. We also became friends, and have been for the last 40 years. But we rarely sail together, just the two of us. I remember we sailed a 505 regatta a few years back, and that went pretty well, so maybe we should try it again?
The Red Ruby project is a partnership between Chris and Justin Wolfe and I, where we share our Sunfast 3300 in doing some of the iconic offshore races in the world. Our boat is based in Hamble, UK. My normal sailing partner is Alyosha Strum-Palerm, who we heard from in the June issue of 48° North
One of the fixtures on the UK Doublehanded Offshore Series circuit is the annual Round Isle of Wight Race (RIOW), starting and finishing in Cowes on June 10, 2023. There is a lot of history to this race, as it was the course for the first America’s Cup. When Alyosha had a conflict, I thought of Carl. Could this be a way to finally race together again? Of course my motivations in inviting Carl were not purely social, since Carl is the best sailor I know.
We had an easy flight to Heathrow Airport (except Carl got stuck in a middle seat), then took an Uber down to Hamble
on the south coast. Fighting our jet lag, we prepared Red Ruby for a couple days of training with another identical Sunfast, then spent the afternoon getting to know the boat and working out our roles. I would do most of the boat handling tasks and Carl would steer.
We were a bit more alert on the second day, and we got some good training done on the Solent. As we started to find our groove, I was struck by how easy it is to sail with someone as good as Carl. He is always steering well, always has a good idea about our positioning, and there is not much communication needed — just like the old days.
On Friday we got to go racing. There were two buoy races scheduled from Cowes as part of the Sunfast Cup. We eagerly accepted the opportunity to do some casual racing before the big show on Saturday. The current was ripping across the fixed starting line off the Royal
Yacht Squadron, and we didn’t really know where all the fixed marks of our course were, but once we got underway we found our way to the top of the group. We made a few little errors in handling (mostly my errors trying to fill Alyosha’s shoes) but on the final short run to the finish we were neck and neck with the two leaders. Carl made the brilliant call to sail wing-on-wing for the last stretch into the finish, and we won the race by 9 seconds. The second race also went well, and we got third. OK, we can do this.
Dinner and awards were at the Royal Ocean Racing Club, where we got to meet some of our competitors and soak in the nautical atmosphere of Cowes. We slept on the boat, exhausted from the day, but excited for the RIOW race starting at 7 a.m. the next morning.
The day dawned bright and clear with a light northerly. The current was ebbing at 3 knots on the start buoy, so the big challenge would be getting a good start without being swept over the line early. Carl did some mental math and positioned us in exactly the right spot two minutes out. In the final seconds, we set the kite, dropped the jib, and hit the line with speed. Carl had absolutely nailed the start with no input from me, and somehow I had managed to execute a good set. We were off among the leaders in a 6 knot northeaster. The wind died and headed, and we sailed on the jib for a bit. Then it rebuilt and lifted, and we used the kite all the way to Hurst Castle at the western end of the Solent, then jibed for our first turn at the famed Needles. Red Ruby was the first boat around!
The next leg was close reaching with the wind coming off the high chalky cliffs. There were three fast boats right behind us as we worked south towards St. Catharine’s Point. It was quite variable, sometimes reaching, sometimes upwind. Then we briefly got a big lift, and I
foolishly suggested we reset the kite. That worked for about a minute, then we had to scramble to get it down when the breeze came back on the nose. Finally the wind built and stabilized, and we had a nice 10 mile upwind down the south side of the island, short tacking with the other three leaders, a Sunfast 3600, a JPK 1080, and a Farr X2. We were a little slower but staying close, and by the time we got to Bembridge Ledge at the east end of the island, were solidly in third, three minutes behind the leader.
The last leg was a light run back to Cowes against the tide. All the fleet hugged the Isle of Wight shore, but there were lots of tricky sand bars coming a long way offshore (Ryde Sands), so staying out of the current but in deep enough water was a challenge. We got by Bellino, the 3600, but the lead boat, Mzunga, gradually pulled away from us, and we feared they would correct out
ahead, since they only owed us about five minutes for the race. We worked hard to go as fast as we could, playing every puff for all it was worth. Finally we crossed the finish line at Cowes, tired but happy. We had sailed well, with some good moves and no big mistakes. Like everything with Carl, it did not even seem that hard, just business as usual, sailing a boat fast and smart.
In the end we corrected over Mzunga by just 16 seconds, after over 7 hours of racing. However, our dreams of victory were dashed by the arrival of the J/109 Jago about 15 minutes after us, and we only owe them 13.5 minutes. So we got second out of 30 doublehanders. But we felt like winners. We had put together a good race after sailing together aboard Red Ruby for just three days, and we had a wonderful time both on the water and ashore. I guess after 40 years, there is still some magic.
As we started to find our groove, I was struck by how easy it is to sail with someone as good as Carl. He is always steering well, always has a good idea about our positioning, and there is not much communication needed — just like the old days.Red Ruby sailing upwind against another Sunfast 3300 near Cowes.
$25,000
WILLIAM GARDEN DESIGN FAST PASSAGE 39 Philbrooks built 1978, Halcyon Passage. Delivered as a “kit boat” and lovingly finished: teak interior, faired clear yellow cedar tongue & groove lining. Some North sails, Leitch McBride cruising chute, Ron Mack storm jib. Perkins diesel, many spare parts. A classic, she would benefit from knowledgable attention and updating. A good price to a good home. » Contact Peter & Patricia Clark • paclark150@gmail.com
• $25,000
$45,000
A beautiful example of a classic Sparkman & Stephens Tartan design. Tourmaline is a true head turner both at the dock and at sea. This high-performance cruiser is one of a limited number of deep keel Tartan 37’s produced. It has been well taken care of. This liveaboard slip is transferable to the new owner for up to 1 year. Located in Seattle, WA » Contact Guy Carter / Gina Lusardi • (360) 440-6406 • lusardig@gmail.com
• $45,000
$6,000
26 FT. COLUMBIA MACH II SAILBOAT / A CLASSIC!
It is time to sell our beloved family boat. Many upgrades over the years. Electronics- depth sounder, wind indicator. Force 10 kerosene heater. VHF radio. Sunbrella uphostery. Alchohol stove. Head with sink & holding tank. Upgraded rigging. Roller furler. Dinghy.Bruce Anchor. Spinnaker. Dodger with awning. Stern rail w/ built in ladder. 9.9 Mercury outboard.
» Contact Robin McCain • burtonmccain@msn.com
• $6,000
$25,000
‘91 SCHOCK 35 SAILBOAT
Quality racer/cruiser. Well maintained, upgraded. Bottom foils faired/painted 2018. Diesel htr, hot water, refer/freezer. Furuno Navnet chart plotter GPS, AIS. Digital charts Vancouver Is. to Oregon. Radar, autopilot. Bimini covers. Perkins M30, full service 11/22, Flexifold 3 blade prop. Full set sails w/ cruising genaker. Lying Brownsville.
» Contact John Burton • (360) 731-2461
• Jcburtonclan@gmail.com
• $25,000
79 TARTAN TEN FOR SALE
Set up and equipped for club racing. Estimate 250300 hours on new 2004 Farymann diesel. Most sails in excellent condition. New bottom paint July 2020.
» Contact Arnold Jarlock • arniejarlock@aol.com
• (360) 377-0285 [Leave message] • $8,000
$19,500
1948 Ed Monk-designed, Grandy-built 34' cabin cruiser. Described as a late Lake Union Dreamboat, she is powered by a 100-hp Chrysler Marine diesel engine. She has two stainless steel diesel tanks, although only one has been used, a 40-gallon plastic holding tank and a 60-gallon stainless steel freshwater water tank. A pleasure to cruise or live-aboard.
» Contact Mary McCrea • mary.e.mccrea@gmail. com
• $19,500
$115,000
World Capable Cruiser. Ready to take you cruising. Beautiful yacht. Cutter rigged with oversized rigging and extra cockpit winches. Lots of newer equipment; 40 hp Yanmar engine, autopilot, radar, stove/oven, watermaker. Cruise equipped; large sail inventory, windvane, heater, fridge/freezer. 2018, engine and power train refurbished at $20K cost. Orcas Island, WA.
» Contact Tom Owens • (360) 632-8896
• svlandsend@yahoo.com • $115,000
$35,000
Comfortable cruiser and NW veteran. Dual helms. Yanmar3GM 30 engine with Autoprop 2- 30 gal aluminum fuel tanks. Pressure hot and cold H20, propane oven, heater. engine heat, Newer 130% Genoa & Harken furling system. Main sail in good condition. Bruce anchor manual windlass. Bottom sider cockpit cushions. Radar & GPS. Moorage available.
» Contact Douglas W. Davidson • (425) 864-1955
• ddavidson@pumptechnw.com
• $35,000
$5,000
TENDER
10 foot dinghy. Epoxy encapsulated, Chesapeake Light Craft Dinghy Kit. » Contact Richard Groesbeck • (360) 739-1575 • dickgroesbeck@gmail.com • $5,000
$69,000
Built 1986 by the Sam Morse Co. Volvo D1-30 28hp low hours. Diesel bulkhead heater, Monitor windvane, 3 burner Force 10 propane stove with oven and broiler. Jib, staysail, mainsail, drifter, storm jib, storm trysail. Located Sitka, AK. » Contact John Herchenrider
• (907) 752-5033 • johnherch@gmail.com
$79,000
• $69,000
$15,000
1992 DRASCOMBE COASTER 21'9"
8 HP Mercury Trailer Dodger Cockpit Cover 2 mains etc. Health forces sale so you get all my stuff. Located in Bellingham WA » Contact Dale Riva • (415) 794-9789
• daleriva@gmail.com • $15,000
$16,000
1966 CENTURY RESORTER 17
Mahogany inboard. New varnish & bottom paint. Newish 383 (500hp). 50 mph. New upholstery. New cockpit sole. New fuel tank. New gauges. Rebuilt transom. New king Trailer. Ski tow-bar. Nearly new custom cover. 5200 bottom w/glass-epoxy over. Custom teak swim step. Serious inquiries only.
» Contact Jim Llewellyn • (206) 842-4552
• jim.llewellyn47@gmail.com • $16,000
$275,000
$125,000
GRAND ALASKAN 46
Hull 15 Built Hong Kong Mahogany plank Yakal frames designed Art DeFever a slice of boating history. Princess propane Nova Kool fridge freezer deep freeze washer dryer Espar two heads separate shower 350 gal water 780 gal diesel 120 Lehman diesels Raymarine C140W Radar 380 W solar Victron controllers. A great little liveabourd ship with fuel efficient hull denis@deniswoodske.ca
» Contact Denis • (250) 954-5317
• denis@deniswoodske.ca • $125,000
$89,500
Professionally built of mahogany planking over oak frames, Debonair has been lovingly maintained. Extensive upgrades include new electrical and 75hp Yanmar. Consistently turning heads, Debonair is a seaworthy passage-maker, recently completing a 16,000nm tour of the South and North Pacific. From rig to sails, systems to safety, Debonair is voyage-ready. Details: porttownsendboatco.com or www.yachtworld.com/yacht/1973-custom-edsonschock-43'-ketch-8441971/ » Contact Vance Rucker • ketchdebonair@gmail.com • $89,500
I reluctantly am selling my boat of 30 years. A fine boat for a couple to cruise. We have cruised her over 10,000 miles, and her previous owner sailed her to the South Pacific (Australia) and back. She has been well maintained over all that time. Easy, comfortable and safe boat to cruise, as well as built to the highest standards.
» Contact George Leonnig • 1(503) 707-6062
• moctobi@gmail.com
$98,000
• $79,000
Well maintained, fully functional and beautiful. Draft: 6 Beam: 11. Displacement: 12 ton. Engine Make: Ford Lehman SP90 (4 cyl. 90hp). Drive Type: Direct. Fuel: Diesel. Fuel capacity: 150 gal. (2x75 gal tanks). Electronics: Furuno GPS/chart plotter, depth sounder, radar, and AIS in (new 2019). Freshwater capacity: 105 gal. Heads: 2. Located in Petersburg, Alaska.
» Contact Sierrasailor18@gmail.com
• $98,000
Well built, lovingly maintained, well outfitted, affordable blue water cruising cat is ready to put another ocean under her keels. 3 doubles, 2 heads, beautiful woodwork. Watermaker, fridge, freezer, B&G plotter, AIS, SSB, Radar, 600 W Solar, 2000W inverter/charger, wind gen, auto props. Achilles aluminum hull dingy w 4hp. » Contact 206-658-3966 • phil@sisiutl.org • $275,000
$13,500
1959 CHEOY LEE LION 35’ SLOOP - DANDELION
This 1959 Cheoy Lee Lion combines beautiful classic design with quality teak construction, in a boat ready for cruising. Upgrades and refits have been done by us and the previous owners. Recent haul-out in September 2022 refreshed bottom and topsides paint and replaced the anode so this boat is ready to go.
» Contact Ian Wright • (250) 706-8825
• ianbwright@gmail.com
• $13,500
$14,400
1981
Large mainsail invites comfortable, easy, powerful cruising under the main alone. Compact galley and enclosed head, large main saloon (11.76' beam and 6’1") with teak interior. Shrouds are rod rigging with forestay head-foil, covers for both mainsail and wheel, winches cleaned and greased, and nearly new settee cushions. Recently installed ‘V’ berth and stern ¼ berths/storage deck. 12 bags of sails-Carbon, Kevlar, Dacron sets. Yanmar 3GMD 20hp diesel. Electronics include Garmin chart plotter, Simrad auto helm, depth sounder. 2021 three new batteries, starter, polycarbonate windows, and 8/2021 bottom paint, biannual zincs. » Contact John Hyry • jmhyry@gmail.com
• $14,400
$160,000
According to Off Center Harbor, “Morning Star, a 50foot double-ended Scandinavian ketch, is a boat of a lifetime: handsome, capable, easily handled, and built out of the finest and most long-lived classic materials.” She is planked with 1 3/8” Port Orford cedar over steam bent white oak frames on 12” centers,has a 40 foot waterline, 6’ 10” draft and carries 1200 sq ft of sail.
» Contact L Richardson • leightonrich@me.com
• $160,000
$3,200
Own a classic traditional: Marie Anne, a Friendship Sloop. Originally gaff rigged fish boats in Maine. Mahogany planking, two-cylinder Yanmar, sails. Needs some work, the owner, deceased, was out of state for eleven years. The boat has been in saltwater storage, under cover. This is for someone who loves a historic type vessel and can fix her up. Negotiable price.
» Contact Paul Kelton • (206) 851-0042 • pkeltop@gmail.com • $3,200
BOAT SLIP FOR SALE/LEASE
40 foot slip, C20, at beautiful Pleasant Harbor Marina, Brinnon, WA. Amenities include pub, restrooms, laundry, pool, hot tub, pump out and gas dock. $160 monthly mtce fee plus electricity in addition to lease or purchase.
» Contact diane@pleasantharbormarina.com
• $29,500
SUBLEASE AVAILABLE FOR 84' END TIE
AT SHILSHOLE BAY MARINA
84' end tie at SBM sublease available 7/1/20238/14/2023. Will sublet for $2,500 for six weeks. You must meet all marina requirements, including insurance. Slip has 100amp 3-phase, 50amp and 30 amp single phase power. We recommend you compare our rates to SBM’s high season rates. tinyurl.com/Guest-Rates » Contact Gail Luhn
• (206) 769-3621
• gail@mvinfinity.com
• $1,800/month or $700/week or $75/day
For even more photos and listings check out 48north.com/classifieds
40’ - 48’ - 60’ open slips. Great location in Poulsbo, WA Restrooms, Showers. For More Information
360-779-7762 or 360-509-0178
READY
Love to sail? Make a great living in the San Juan islands running a fantastic charter business! After 34 years it is time to sell our dream job. We have already done the hard work for you. Dedicated client base, beautiful website, five star reviews. Outstanding modern 55’ sloop with moorage. Great income if you are ready to take the helm of the best job in the world!
islandsailor600@gmail.com
Full service rig shop serving Puget Sound
Cliff Hennen
(360) 207-5016
• (206) 718-5582
www.evergreenrigging.com
The Systems Specialists
No ocean too big, no trip too small, no ship too large, no mast too tall, sail or power, we move them all!!!
When you are ready, give us a call.
Professional service since 1967.
CappyTom@aol.com
• (206) 390- 1596
Based at Elliott Bay Marina
Please contact us to arrange a visit: 206-285-3632 E-mail: info@emharbor.com
Electronics E-mail: larry@emharbor.com
www.emharbor.com
42’ FORMOSA 42 ’82
..................... $57,500
“ZEPHYRUS” Long range cruising boat with beautiful teak below and plenty of storage Two staterooms, quarter berth and convertible salon.
40’ HYUNDAI KALIK 40 ’81
..................... $34,500
“MIRAGE” An excellent performance cruiser and/ or liveaboard. Successful past racing career and still competitive with PHRF rating of 96.
34’ JEANNEAU SUNRISE 34 ’85
......................... $25,000
“OLIVEOIL”Easy handling and great sailing characteristics. Many recent upgrades. She is ready to go. 2-year Santa Cruz slip possible.
WLB Brokerage - boatshed seattle boatshed tacoma boatshed everett . boatshed porttownsend WATERLINEBOATS.COM|206.282.0110|HELMSMANTRAWLERS.COM
Designed by Sparkman & Stephens and built by Queen Long Marine in Taiwan, the 2001 Hylas 49, Ad Astra, is a beautifully crafted yacht that has been kept in excellent condition. She was delivered to the Pacific Northwest new and was kept in fresh water for over 21 years by the original owner. Equipped for coastal cruising, Ad Astra has had relatively light use and constant professional maintenance to keep her in “yacht” quality and she certainly shows a high level of attention. In the spring of 2022, her electrical systems were upgraded by Viking Marine using the Victron Energy platform with a LiPoFe4 battery bank as the foundation. Many other upgrades were performed along the way before health issues changed the owner’s plans. Ad Astra is a terrific boat for a couple or family sailing adventures, and is a great platform for coastal or offshore voyaging.
Ad Astra 2001 Hylas 49