See you at Ski to Sea!

It has been a dreary week; your correspondents have been splitting long days between work and preparation for June. The excitement of sailing to Clark Island in Summer sunshine already seems like a distant memory. It doesn't look like we will be making any voyages in the short term, but there is good news! The forecasts are calling for some sun and warm temperatures on Sunday for Ski to Sea, and we Fairhaven locals are getting amped up.

What a race.

The festivities at the finish line are scheduled for 5:00pm at Marine Park, just a short walk from Layla's buoy in the marina. Depending on the logistics, we might even be able to swing the boat around and drop anchor off Post Point for the best seats in the house.

Either way, the plan is to enjoy the day away, and we recommend you do the same! See you there.

~e.w.

Clark Island via Inati

Josh and your correspondents managed to align a couple early weekdays away from work, eager to have an adventure in the sun that was baking the area late last week. The marine weather forecast was manageable, although showers wanted to make a move in. We were correctly optimistic.

On Sunday evening we set the Genoa in negligible wind, but were barely able to maintain one knot across Bellingham Bay. So, after some futile tacking and trimming, we dropped the motor in and got to Inati Bay with about an hour of daylight left.

It was our first night sleeping on the hook, but the ground under Inati was friendly. The anchor held strong; we dropped like experts between two neighbors and let our masthead light reflect eerily on the glass beneath the boat.

We took to the beach as light departed.

What followed was a myriad of laughter and relaxation. Firewood was abundant, so we filled the large pit and  enjoyed the blaze for hours. A new tradition was born from our appreciation for the spectacle, as we each stood on a tall stump and made toasts and pulled whiskey.

Yr. correspondents often witness the phenomenon of bioluminescent dinoflagellates on still nights in Fairhaven. With the movement of an oar, propeller, or even forearm through the water, microscopic plankton light up in a cloud of fluorescent blue. On Sunday night in Inati, the effect was more vibrant and magnificent than we had ever seen. Josh had never witnessed the glow. He was thrilled to be able to literally pick up handfuls of blue, or to send a mushroom of light streaming behind a long oar stroke. As we made our final return to Layla for the evening, fish were visible from at least twenty yards away and five feet down leaving long blue streamers behind them as they flew.

***

On Monday there was no decisive plan. So, as normally happens when nothing needs doing, the three of us wandered different directions along the waterfront and into the woods. Suffice it to say that solitary exploration in an unknown wilderness is about as strange to confront retrospectively as a bottle of whiskey by the fire.

When we were finished, we spontaneously set a course to Clark Island, a reasonable distance around Lummi and across Rosario Strait, but easily reachable in only a few hours. As we approached, the alluring Sucia Island called at us from the horizon. The blue skies and pristine sandy beaches at Clark were barely able to keep us there.

In evening exploration, we encountered no inhabitants of the two large, voyaging sailboats buoyed nearby. The initial circle of the finger-like island took hours, through an array of inviting campsites, interesting beaches, Madrone forests, swampy lowlands, caves, and even a rope swing.

 

Monday evening closed with another fire. Right on the sandy beach looking out on the sailboat, we cooked some noodles and enjoyed the sunset. By the time night fell the tide was at our feet; we retired early and slept heavily.

Tuesday morning brought rainfall until around noon. We relaxed until the currents were adequate for a voyage home via Hale Passage around the northern tip of Lummi. Wind was absent once again, so we motored most of the way back, in and out of light showers.

This is the longest post so far; hopefully it isn't too flowery. Clark Island was inspiring, and yr. correspondents' confidence on the water has multiplied. The true test is about a month away, when we will take our compiled funds and see how long we can last in the SJIs proper.

Note: I put a map on the bottom of the blog page that will update whenever we visit a new location.

~e.w.

Inati Bay Daysail

Your correspondents found the gem Inati in our cruising guide. We had been in search of a short-shot daysail to frequent while we are still employed. Hiding quietly in the steep, wooded southeast side of Lummi Island, Inati Bay is little more than an hour shot from Fairhaven with good wind.

We were hesitant initially about the weather, but the sailing ended up being some of the most enjoyable so far this season. Once we cruised in, we dropped the hook and took to shore; we explored the beach and bouldered a good stretch north along the Island, clinging to the rocks against high tide.

On the return trip we were fortunate enough to sail past the Lady Washington taking a spin on Bellingham Bay.

Today's best shots:

~e.w.

Oops!

A neighbor dragged up on our beam in last night's gale. It was a windy one! No damage.

~e.w.

Thoughts on Today; Details on Layla's Progress

It seems like the rainclouds roll in every time I take a day off. At least my "big bird" foul-weather gear is getting a workout. Ken, Darci, Skot and I took the boat to port today for fuel and water, and I suppose just the thrill of slicing through the whitecaps. Soon enough, we will be confident enough to set the sails in fresh winds and 5ft waves. A late, hungry morning is not the time to try.
The Bayside solved the issue with our stomachs. Skot remarked at one point that even though we were in such a familiar place, the process of commuting over water makes the experience much more novel, almost foreign. Roeder Avenue was within sight, but the place felt new.

I thought it might be useful to share some of the details on our renovation of the sailboat. When Ken purchased she was called Endorphin and had seen better days. The previous owner was an overwhelmed live-aboard with a short budget and busy life. The following is a list of our improvements, as complete as my memory allows.

We:
replaced corroded deck joints
replaced vang, traveler, and main sheet lines
replaced masthead light
installed new forward hatch
equipped ground tackle (200ft rode, 20ft chain, bruce, lightweight)
compiled sail repair kit & repaired sails/added telltales
canvas repair
installed weather station
installed GPS
installed depth/speed device
installed radio/cd/mp3 software
installed VHF
replaced dome lighting
upholstered galley & birth cushions
upholstered sidings
revitalized teak woodwork
built folding, freestanding galley table (chart 18421 under glass)
repaired wood stove & replaced chimney
replaced plumbing & fixtures
purchased skiff & second outboard
repaired companionway slats
installed second battery & power inverter
rewired entirely (thanks Chuck)
installed compass
compiled USCG requirements (extinguishers, pfds etc.)
added art! (impressive acrylic paintings on the chest slats; contributions from Darci, Josh, Ken, and myself)

In addition, we worked endlessly on learning the basics (took a safety & navigation class, I even read an entire textbook). We purchased PFDs, harnesses, and every personal preparation and safety supply imaginable. We outfitted our rigging, toolkits, and spare parts. We cleaned nonstop.
Some of these things may seem trivial, but I am very proud of the commitment it took to pull it all together, and am content knowing that we are prepared for any situation, even those that we may never have to deal with.

~e.w.

This Opening Day

Let me start by saying that I when I woke up this morning, I did not think of today as "Opening Day". Really, in the past month or so, there have been about a half dozen more significant days of spiritual awakening, contentment in our preparation, and readiness for a fair-weather season. Layla has been ready for weeks, and already fairly well tested.
Today does not represent any situational change, or celebration. Your correspondents will be working rigorously for at least another month, earning money for the coming Summer. I have not been sailing in over a week, and the weather is only mild. More personal preparations are needed.

Still, the first of May is the club's opening day, and even without attending I was able to enjoy the festivities. What better way to satisfy an appetite than a Win's burger and milkshake on the boat? The sun found its way down through the puffy alto-cumulus clouds, so I kicked off my shoes and shirt and watched the decorated ships parade over and back, single file from the port. The trailing vessel shot arcs of water soaring athwartships a hundred feet into the air, showering down into the bay.
Zodiac's masts were at rest in the terminal, gleaming and magnificent as ever.
So I turned up Tom Waits' Heartattack and Vine album, ate and felt free, relieved to be on the water after claustrophobic excitement visiting Redden during their successful barbeque/sale extravaganza, and driving back through Farmer's Market crowds to Fairhaven.

After a full week of work at a new job, it is invigorating to know that I am so close to my own adventure; after so long learning about boats I can really appreciate the work that goes into each of the parade's vessels. Each has a story, just as important to its crew as Layla's is to me.

I found myself on deck without a camera, so there are no visual aids to this first, perilous post. We have been wanting to find a way to share our experiences as we go, and this is how the story starts.

~e.w.