Thoughts, So Far

I am sitting in the galley on this the fifth night of yr. correspondents' journey, listening to the fire cracking in the wood stove and the raindrops pecking at the hatch. My fingertips are molded by the shape of ink pens from pouring words ceaselessly onto my pad. Still, in reviewing the pages, there is little form to the thoughts and almost nothing I feel comfortable divulging in a public forum.

My apologies. I owe more of a story than this to such supportive visitors.

On previous sailing trips I was able to somewhat recount the experiences of adventure. After each day, events and curiosities translated well. But since the twenty-third day of June I have been captive to introspection and the  strange, slow passage of time.

I could force myself to discuss each pleasant cove, every revealing ray of sun, or any bit of navigation minutia. Would that make a good read? I don't know. Be sure to read Ken's new post below; he has captured much more than I.

Really, I never expected to be so quickly and thoroughly thrust into a soul search, but unknown places provide no guarantee of any kind, so really, I could not have expected any less.

~e.w.

Lopez Island, Fisherman Bay

This is my (Ken) first of hopefully many posts since this blog was created. It seems like a lot has happened since we shoved off from the "home" buoy in Fairhaven. I feel like one post can't do it justice, but I'll do my best.

Wednesday was it. We had everything ready, the boat packed, tanks full, and we were prepared to go. A year's worth of work was paying off, times ten! The weather was sunny with a little bit of wind, enough to sail 3/4 of the way to our first destination, Cypress Island. To coordinate with the next day's stop, we stayed on the south end of the island at the state park rec center. It was a nice little sandy cove with some well plotted camp sites.

We enjoyed a good meal over a nice fire that evening, and called it a night.

Thursday I went on a supreme hike through the Pacific Northwest jungles of Cypress Island.

The trail led me first to an old airfield that was no longer in use. The second trail led to an amazing little lake called Reed. I swam for a while in the secluded sunshine of the lake, then made my way back to the boat.

Sometime around 4:00pm we raised sail and headed for our second destination, James Island, which is just outside Lopez Sound. The beat across Rosario Strait was one of my favorite sails yet. The wind was around 18 knots and the boat was heeling about 15 degrees. We danced with a few ferries (by dance I mean we got the hell out of the way) and tied up to our buoy just before dark.

Friday started out with a hearty pancake and hash-brown breakfast complete with two eggs and a banana. Next was some extensive relaxation for Evan and some island exploration for me.

We left James Island around 2:00pm and headed through Thatcher Pass into Lopez Sound. We found a calm bit of water on the east side of Lopez Island called Spencer Spit. Our first observation was that there was no room for us, but after a closer look we found an overturned buoy. A quick poke with the boat hook rited it and we secured the boat for the night.

On shore was a nice camp ground loaded with deer and tents. I ran into a few peers touring the islands on bikes. I turned out that I had met one of them at a concert in Bellingham. The rest of the evening was spent among friends on another island I had never been to before.

Saturday we had our eye on the village side of Lopez, and the weekly farmer's market we had read about. We got an early star and made it just outside Fisherman Bay by noon. As we closely studied the snake shaped entrance we began to realize that the abnormally low tide made the water not much deeper than 2 feet. We decided to drop anchor outside the bay and wait in line with 3 other sailboats as the tide came in. After sitting about 2 hours and seeing two other boats head in that knew what they were doing, we decided that at 4-5 feet of water we could do it too. We nervously made our way through what seemed like a labyrinth of shallow waterways into the beautiful and accommodating bay.

Weighing anchor at about 2:30pm, just half an hour late for the market, we wandered into town and spent the rest of the day getting our bearings.

Swimming in the resort pool that we are anchored just outside of has become a favorite activity for the last couple evenings. Pool at the bar, wandering through galleries and bookshops, and finding internet in local cafes takes up much of the day's time. Monday has yet to come, but I'm thinking a trip to Friday Harbor is soon in order...

Thanks for reading!

~k.b.

The (cloudy) (official) first day of Summer!

On this overcast Monday, your correspondents were hardly ceremonial about the first day of one of the best Summers of our lives, as we spent the afternoon shopping for food and other essential provisions for our big voyage tentatively taking place Wednesday.

It's a good thing neither of us are incredibly sentimental, or at least choose not to be in this case. I, personally, have been feeling quite nostalgic for the past few days. I am sure I speak for both of us in saying that our friends and loved ones are going to be sorely missed and always in our thoughts. As both a reminder to myself and the aforementioned, I would like to stress that we are not in fact "moving away" or attempting to escape any personal relationships, but merely taking a somewhat indefinite vacation during which we will be frequently visiting home. Please keep us likewise in your thoughts and prayers!

As for the crummy weather, we remain optimistic. Two days ago we enjoyed a much-needed evening sail in fantastic wind and a vibrant sunset, making Ken feel a bit like Pan.

And did I mention the fantastic view on the bay?

The word about this blog seems to be getting around; much thanks to all the visitors. Stay tuned, the best is yet to come!

~e.w.

Sucia Island, At Last

The anticipation of Summer has peaked for your correspondents this early June, because here is the month that will make or break our long-developed plans and preparations. Final tasks are being mechanically worried about. Soon there will be little left to do but sail and survive.

Later in June we plan to get comfortable in Lopez and East Orcas Island sounds, to approach the locals and to find work, so it seemed appropriate that we round off our Spring exploration of the outer islands with the crown jewel of the San Juan archipelago, Sucia Island.

The shrimp-shaped wonderland is one of the most popular destinations on the Pacific Coast. It rests north of Orcas, about two miles above point Thompson. It was our furthest trip yet, and the voyage to get there on Sunday was the wettest.

Really, it could have gone either way. Yr. cresp. had been looking forward to Sucia long before it was a real possibility, but the departure weather was all wet and no wind, and we have convinced ourselves to stay home in better weather. This time, however, we were determined to get there; the forecast for Monday and Tuesday was reasonably good.

Miss Duncan joined us in the morning; we pulled out our big-bird gear and took off for Sucia through four hours of staccato downpours.

By evening time we were anchored in the remote Ewing cove on the north side of the island, having decided against sharing the mammoth Echo Bay with a half-dozen boats.

Still in wet weather gear, we took a soggy hike along the narrow northern stretch of island to get an idea of the place, viewing about a thousand slugs and snails in the process.

The many campsites on Sucia are each uniquely private and comfortable, but for the night we slept on board Layla, and the rain was no more.

***

Monday was a sunny whirlwind of exploration. After a big breakfast on the boat, we motored around to the popular Fossil Bay.

Once on shore, we hiked along a narrow southern stretch of island and relaxed on the grassy cliff side. From that point on, the day became somewhat of a daze filled with beaches, coves, otter chases and dinghy rides.

The pictures speak for themselves.

I have never felt so simultaneously exhausted and contented as at the fire Monday night, eating Darci's soup and watching the last light fade.

***

On Tuesday there was much rest, a small amount of hiking, and a long voyage home. Finally there was a breeze to sail under, so we reached south around Carter Point and back into Bellingham Bay in the evening.

Even in writing this I am tired from the trip. It was amazing to say the least, and it took every ounce of energy to have that amount of fun. Your correspondents hope to visit Sucia numerous times in the coming months.

***
A few notes:

We will be sailing again and sailing often around the twentieth of this month, so check back for new posts around that time. Internet access will be limited in the islands, but I will be writing and compiling pictures to post in bundles whenever we find a hot spot. So, if you don't see anything for a period of time keep checking back, because I plan to keep this project a high priority.

We will be safe, and we will stay in touch!

~e.w.