NOTHING BAD HAPPENED

The short story is nothing bad happened.  But it could have.

The trip up to Port Ludlow was great.  Motored up against mild northerlies, worked my way to the eastern side, raised the sails and had a nice line with main and jib set.  6 knots to windward, headed in almost the right direction.  Silent and reveled in utilizing only wind power to drive the boat north. 

Really a nice ride alternating under full sail where it would work, power when it didn’t.  Sorry, purists, but while I love sailing, ya gotta get where ya gotta go. 

I had some time after I arrived so I checked out the bullfrog dingy.  The steering was frozen.  I worked on it a bit and left the engine disconnected from the rod.  The beginning of my mistakes.

Fully enjoyable day enhanced by the evening meal of chowder supplied by several of the other Windworks  boats.  Great conversation on a variety of topics, truly a wonderful group of people.  The next morning included coffee with John followed by a killer meal. Truly a killer (no fruit or veges) meal that was absolutely wonderful.

One by one the boats left the dock headed back.  It's unclear when the small craft warnings popped up, but  the southerly had some authority to it.  The winds were higher than previously forecasted.  I raised my jib after clearing the lines and it’s a good thing as wind was piping up on the beam from Hood Canal.  The run to Foul weather bluff wasn’t too bad, but after rounding the bluff the wind was right on the nose.  Doused the jib and motored head long into building seas.

As I approached Point No Point, I put myself into a position I didn’t want to be in.  The waves were getting impressively big and I simply hadn’t expected it.  The dinghy was moving a bit more on the davits than it should have with the outboard turning back and forth.  That, more than anything else was worrying me as the boat pitched up and down.  There were some crashes below as various things were thrown about (again, my fault) but the only real option was to slug it out.  

There was some tidal action going on around the point as the waves were short stacked and huge.  A flood competing with southerly.   There were at least 3 waves where Cambria buried the bow completely and green water swept over the deck. The boat would shudder and then rise to the occasion.  There was so much up and down motion that the forward progress would slow to around 2 knots, the bow pitching high in the air then plummeting down and spray shooting out on both sides then rising again.

At one point I had that dreaded thought ‘this is when bad things happen’.  The boat is sound, but I was increasingly worried about the gyrations of the dinghy on the davits as well as the engine.   All it would take would be one fitting to fail and in those waves you’d have your hands full correcting the situation.   I have bolt cutters aboard, but they aren’t readily accessible.   I have several knives, but I wasn’t wearing one.   I shuddered at the thought of trying to pick up the dinghy, exposing my beam to 6-8 foot waves and doing so single handed.  I don’t think it could have been done.  

I wasn’t really concerned with my own safety – it was uncomfortable, but not unsafe.  I was concerned with harming the boat.

I alternated between veering off and quartering the waves and slugging it out straight into it.  My goal was not speed - it was making progress towards home.  There was a larger 49 Jeaneau Windworks boat with main up that was clearly ‘tacking’ back and forth across the sound, quartering the waves and making much better speed than I, but they were covering a lot of ground doing it.

As I approached Kingston, the waves had moderated slightly, but I was pretty much done.  I called Kingston and they had room and would assist me in docking.  I held a course that would take me to the marina, but as I did so the waves moderated a little more and my mood improved.   I checked down below and aside from things being tossed about there was no damage.

Abeam of Kingston, I made the decision to continue south, working in the lee of Jefferson Head then crossing the sound at a slight angle to the wind.  The 49’ boat that had been tacking back and forth was on the other side of the sound and we arrived at nearly the same time back at Shilshole.

Docking was uneventful save for my knee hitting my favorite tea mug which then broke — the only damage of the day.  I’m getting the routine down of single handed docking and it’s fairly easy.  I and been all set up to simply go to the fuel dock and wait for the wind to die, but as I entered the breakwater, the wind dropped significantly and I felt comfortable getting her into her home slip.

In retrospect, I should have prepared both the boat, and myself,  a little better.  I should have known about the tide rips around Pt no Pt.   I need to secure the bullfrog better and I’m addressing the rigging in a few weeks.   Cambria is a strong, seaworthy boat and proved it again today.

The skipper needs a little sharpening.

I've sailed up and down the inside passage.  Twice to Alaska, many times to the north end of Vancouver Island, around Vancouver Island and sailed over the Columbia bar.  I've had several sessions with Johnstone Strait, two of will be burned in my memory forever -- but while I learned (and perhaps re-learned) several lessons this weekend, the key one dates back to boy scout days.  Always be prepared.   A weekend jaunt on the sound, even when winds are forecasted light, can quickly change and in short order you can have your hands full.  Expect it.  

My ordeal paled in comparison to some of the other boats.   I did have a sheltered cockpit (despite the spray I never put on foul weather gear or boots).  I was not out in the elements for any extended time.  There were smaller boats with open cockpits and they had the tougher time.

The only saving grace was the super bowl loss.   The Hawks, 36 inches from a ‘re-pete’, made an ill advised pass and lost the name in the final seconds.

I think the awesome strength of the forces we had just witnessed put the game in a more proper perspective.