Return to the Salish Sea II

[David Patterson]

A few island scenes. One is of a type of boat common in the San Juans, called a "Tillie." This one is one of the larger local ones. The Chinook word 'skookum' is used as an adjective to mean strong/excellent/handsome/etc., I think. An exemplar of a class of things. Like WWII landing craft in functioning, they can run up to a beach or shore road, drop the bow ramp, and load or unload. Fast, with shallow draft. A local boat brokerage has the practical slogan of "It's an island. You need a boat." Next is a photo of big leaf maple leaves at the shoreline of the Port of Friday Harbor's Fairweather Park. Each leaf is larger than a person's face. (I took the photo mostly to capture that gradation of light from upper right to lower left.) Last is a photo of two full-keel sailing vessels on the hard. The big shippy-looking pilot house ketch (I believe) in the foreground has barely any cut away, enough not to have a vertical bow. A skookum keel, we might say. A so-called long keel. The other, a cutter of wood, probably, has a greater cut away, similar to our Cape Dory under bodies. The woman on the ladder, by the way, appeared to me to be in her late 70s, at least, which suggests to me that boating and maintaining a boat by your own work may extend one's vitality, if not actual lifespan. Not that serious gardening wouldn't work as well. It's a good idea to choose your parents for longevity as well, I hear.

[tjr818]

I believe the big boat with the full keel is a Fisher. I have always like that look.
The woman on the ladder is probably just 40, maintaining a boat by her own work may just makes her appear to be in her 70s

[David Patterson]

Good point about the maintenance, Tim. Good point. I'm terrible at it, making sure to do enough to keep cruising, though. My playful motto, stolen from the Dutch royal House of Orange, in medieval French, is "J'maintiendrai." "I will maintain." I don't think it refers to boat maintenance, however. Maintaining that big Fisher would seriously erode both my cruising funds and time. Impossible for me, actually, for I couldn't get into one in the first place. Quite the craft.

[David Patterson]

With a period of fog most mornings for the last week, sometimes very dense, October has become Fog-tober. By mid morning fog typically has lifted, as the day warms. Tall long ADVENTURESS has visited, from Port Townsend, across Juan de Fuca Strait. How I would like to meet her out there under sail. Her long overhang and elliptical stern always draw my attention. She is quite a contrast with the stern of the modern single-master across the dock to her port. Her captain docks her with slow motion gentleness. On the docks the orange buoys of commercial crab pots suggest the season, while spiders have colonized an unused small outboard on a docked Pelican (I believe) sailing craft. Entomologists claim we are never more than three feet from a spider. Apparently that is true onboard sailing vessels around here. They will come parachuting on board, on a gossamer strand of the finest silk. Fruit flies disappear immediately aboard, though the only spider I ever see is at the stern, where the airflow is excellent for webs. Joshua Slocum's famous "fighting Boston spider," that accompanied him aboard for awhile, comes to mind. Slocum considered it part of the crew, enjoying its dominion over an intruder. Bernard Moitessier was of the opinion that extended ocean cruising engendered a reverence for all life. Perhaps that was his solitude-matured spirituality in evidence. With less than a week left in my 2015 sojourn on the Salish Sea, much is touchingly luminous for me here. [ADVENTURESS is described online.]

[David Patterson]

Cruise-weary CLOUD GIRL with her dinghy on deck. (I think a CD25, AKU AKU, is in the background.) I've ended up leaving her in the water. She was on the hook after her spring haul out for more than 240 days, between passages. 215 of those I was aboard. As I prepare to leave her, I've put my CD 7'7" on the foredeck, partly to consider if I could cross a strait with her out of the water. As you can see, there would be just room, with her stern against the mast, to get forward to deal with a mooring line or a furler over-ride. No access to the anchor locker though. With my cockpit-release secondary bow anchor arranged, I could still anchor in up to four fathoms. It's a rough water option to carry her on deck. Maybe a support across the pulpit would allow the dinghy bow to be lifted and the locker to be opened. However...she covers my heater exhaust, so no heater use carrying her this way. Fine for much of the year. In the last photo I've moved her forward of the heater exhaust, for storage while in the slip. No foredeck access now. I've yet to tie her down, in these photos. Those blocks of grey foam on the grab rail will go under her stern.

[David Patterson]

Now and then a unique old wooden boat passes through Friday Harbor, not part of conventional cruising season. Such a one was the 82' LOA 1932 schooner BARLOVENTO (Spanish for "windward") of Seattle. She was built for the DuPont family, who apparently could afford her even after the Crash in '29. The designer's name was mentioned but didn't stick. She is 65' on deck and in the process of some restoration. One of the two late middle-aged men operating her laughingly pointed out that one side was currently white, the other blue. "We confuse the Coast Guard," he said. They were motoring. Could a crew of two even manage the sails functionally? Her engine seemed forward, at least amidship. A deeply handsome craft. Perhaps a gaffer on the foremast at least, but hard to tell. Some sort of unusual rigging there. Maybe she could fly a gollywobbler.

[David Patterson]

My 2015 return to the Salish Sea ends with a ferry ride away from Friday Harbor on 11/27. CLOUD GIRL will spend a few months in a slip, contrary to my plans to have her on the hard. So it goes. A last turn through the Port Marina revealed a boat that someone has added some...drama... to, a bit too much for my personal taste. Well done, however. Friday Harbor is the county seat, but its primary industry is tourism. One service for the tourists --like me, I suppose-- is the only bit of grass along the waterfront that is public, beautifully maintained. Fairweather Park commemorates a significant figure in the development of the port, a director. The statue is of a well know former resident, a one-eyed seal, Pop-eye. As there are always harbor seals in residence (and otters, herons, ravens, gulls, kingfishers, eagles, etc.) kids run the docks in search of Pop-eye, tremendously satisfied on seeing a seal. A very attractive spot, the park, here as seen from a dock.

[David Patterson]

2015's return to the Salish Sea over, here are three views of the mountain Kulshan/Mt Baker, the always-watching presence of the central part of the sea. The mountain makes for a useful coastal nav aid. In order: leaving Friday Harbor; from Rosario Strait; from the Anacortes ferry dock on Fidalgo Island, where road connections come. A friendly presence. [When an opportunity arises to collect a passages summary of the year, it may show up here.] Thanks for witnessing. David, at 9k' above sea level in the mountains west of Denver, and already planning how to get to points farther north in the Salish Sea in 2016.

[Sea Hunt Video]

David:

Thank you very much for sharing your 2015 Salish Sea sailing with us - especially the photos but also your compelling commentary on your observations.

I believe we all look forward to your 2016 sailing season.

I wish you a Happy Thanksgiving, a Merry Christmas, and a Safe and Happy New Year.

[shavdog]

Ditto to what Roberto said.....Your pictures/narrative pulled me in....take care

[tjr818]

I can't to see this in a book.

[David Patterson]

This winter, in the depths of January or February, while I'm pining to be back aboard, I intend to review this year and the prior ones, as I stretch to re-experience some of the sense of cruising. I'll have my journals and logs for help, to believe I was actually there. I do think about a book. If you want to involve yourself, let me know of any particular photos or comments that you found most enticing, in any year. At the moment I don't recall whether it has been four years, or only three. I, of course, enjoyed them all, so my opinions are useless! (About anything nautical, now that I consider.) Maybe my favorite comments came from someone appreciative. Thank you all for those.

[David Patterson]

Some of you may enjoy glancing at the cruising journal or log at the following link: https://db.tt/DKt7yFN2 Each year one volume seems to typify how I like to cruise. In 2015 it was volume 3 (of 5), in which I recorded my sailing in and out of Jervis Inlet, to Chatterbox Falls in Princess Louisa Inlet, British Columbia. If the link doesn't work for you, send me a message and I'll get it to you direct. My journals are unedited and personal, so don't expect polished writing, please. They have the value to me of being written as I go, acting as a good aid to my memory. With a chart from online for reference, this one might help pass a winter evening or two. The photos are of Princess Louisa Inlet, in which I was stern-tied on an exceptionally steep shore, my anchor down on a rock face into seemingly abyssal waters. Also, of a scene from about 8000' in the Rockies foothills west of Denver, where my "cruise ashore" has recently taken me. A different geographical world. (My postings back in May might have other photos of Jervis Inlet, an exotic place to sail.)

[David Patterson]

Another shot of Princess Louisa Inlet, BC. In my winter quarters, with a daughter's family in NJ, I've been able to enjoy my photographs on a screen much larger than a 4" iPhone. Some of them surprise me with depth and detail which I cant fully appreciate on a small screen. Cruising photos enhance the winter, yet engender a longing to be back cruising.

[David Patterson]

This posting may be of little interest to some. For no discernible reason I have found myself thinking about my anchoring, during my 2015 cruising. Perhaps it is the result of coming to rest in winter quarters in the wilds of NJ (Glen Ridge) for some winter months with grandchildren. Having anchored at least 90 times this year, not counting occasional shifts within an anchorage, the experiences necessarily varied. The year's journals have a few crude illustrations and comments that refresh my memory. Perhaps one or more got posted during the year. If so, apologies for the repetition. Anchoring techniques become a fascinating part of cruising under sail, not to mention a seriously important aspect. For me, at least, since I'm single-handing. Pictured are three different anchoring situations: one is a common stern-tie, another is a stern-tie on two bow anchors to handle some strong and varying winds, while the last is where I ended up after a grounding. In the last situation, I used all three of the ready anchors that I keep deployable on deck, as I cruise among islands and fjords. The grounding was an interesting situation in which I was reminded that most groundings are not emergencies, but problems to be solved. I recall the cliffs in the background plunging into the deep bay.