We made it to San Francisco!
Ned, John, Lee and I pulled away from the Port Townsend fuel dock at 10:00AM on Sunday, 8/29 bound for San Francisco. Our first day was spent working our way to Pillar Point where we decided to drop anchor and get one last full night of sleep before completing our trip through the Strait of Juan de Fuca and into the Pacific Ocean. We pulled anchor at Pillar Point at 7:00AM on 8/30. By afternoon, we rounded Cape Flattery, turned off our engine and raised sails, which would be our sole means of travel for the next 6 days.
The Northwest Pacific Ocean is unpredictable. Temperatures, wind strength, wind direction and sea conditions can change often. For the six days that we traveled south, 50-75 miles offshore with no sight of land, we experienced a variety of conditions. The wind blew fairly consistently from north-northwest, and I was glad to have mountaineering layers for cold, damp night watches.
Marine life sightings are always exciting. All activity and conversation instantly stops when someone calls out, "Whale!" We had two whale sightings to complement porpoises, seals and a variety of sea birds.
Marine life sightings are always nice to take our minds, albeit briefly, off of the most constant variable - WAVES!
I used to view waves with a level of fondness. I remember my mother saying how she thought that waves breaking on a shoreline were the most calming sound. Children run excitedly along the beach with boogie boards searching for the best waves.
Suffice to say, I've lost my fondness for waves.
There is a new term I learned - Confused Seas. By definition, a Confused Sea is "A highly disturbed water surface without a single well-defined direction of wave travel." Confused seas feature waves and surges that may hit the beam (side of the boat) at one moment before shifting to the stern (back of the boat) the next moment.
Confused seas have helped me to realize that two of life's simplest pleasures are eating and sleeping. Confused seas don't seem content with delivering sea-sickness alone. They seem more intent to go after the simple pleasures as well.
The galley (kitchen) on Traveler features a gimbaled stove, which enables the stove to swivel with the movement of the boat, always keeping the cooktop level regardless of the boat's heel. For the person at the stove, it's a different story.
Great thanks go to Lee for not only his culinary skills but his willingness to accept the challenge of dropping into the galley to chop (with sharp knives), sauté (with hot oil) and prepare delicious hot dinners. From the cockpit, Ned, John and I would marvel at Lee's tenacity whenever the confused sea would decide it was time to toss him across the galley and into the navigation table five feet behind him. Lee would quickly reappear at the stove, cooking utensil still in hand, with new bruises. One night, as I was preparing hot drinks, I held the kettle in one hand, a mug in the other, and repeating to myself with full concentration, "Don't miss the mug, don't miss the mug..." and proceeded to pour hot water on my hand. I believe I heard the confused sea chuckle.
Then there was the challenge of sleep. For most of the week, we operated on a well-defined watch schedule that Ned had designed. Basically, every crew member was four hours on and four hours off around the clock, with pairing overlaps. This schedule offered three opportunities to sleep a maximum of 3 1/2 hours, allowing for time to strip off foul weather gear and re-dress for the next shift. Three and a half hours x 3 offered plenty of sleep opportunity over 24 hours. The confused sea took that to task as well.
Aside from the V-berth (the sleeping area below Traveler's bow), Traveler's three other sleeping berths are narrow, similar to sleeping on a couch. Two of the berths have a lee cloth, which is a suspended fabric boundary that provides a backstop to keep the "sleeper" from rolling onto the sole (floor) of the boat. My berth has a wooden lee board that slots into place, creating a narrow sleeping space with about four inches of clearance on each side. John referred to my berth as a coffin; I preferred to consider it a cocoon. The confused seas preferred to consider it a torture chamber.
For most of my life I have been fortunate to be able to sleep anywhere, anytime. I apologize to those who cannot. The confused seas were determined to teach me a lesson. Each attempt to sleep would be met with the challenge of finding a position that would maintain contact with important soft sleeping items, such as a pillow! But no matter how hard I tried, my sleeping attempt would be a constant roll to the left, bump, roll to the right, bump, roll to the left, bump... On rare occasions there would be a mysterious five seconds of calm. A smile would form as I would settle into my pillow, then roll to the left, bump... I'm sure the confused sea was smiling back.
But all is well that ends well. And sometimes the valleys of an experience raise the peaks to new heights. In the final 24 hours, as we made our way back toward shore, the seas calmed and the fog rolled in. With less than a quarter mile of visibility at times, we navigated solely by our GPS chart plotter. We arrived to Drake's Bay at midnight on day eight where we anchored, slept ninety minutes, weighed anchor, and headed toward the Golden Gate at 1:30 AM.
The Golden Gate passage has a reputation for being a tricky navigation. Fog, current, narrow channels and a plethora of commercial traffic all present a challenge. We timed our Drake's Bay departure to reach the entrance of the Golden Gate at 7:00 AM, the beginning of the flood tide. A flood tide is a rising tide, which initiates a current from sea toward land. Passing under the Golden Gate bridge, the fog lifted just in time for us to get a glimpse of the north tower - truly a peak moment!
We motored across the San Francisco Bay to the Marina Bay Yacht Harbor in Richmond. As we pulled up to our slip, we were greeted by our friends from Blaine, James and Tanya as they caught our lines. James and Tanya had sailed their boat, s/v Stella J, from Port Townsend as well, arriving the day before. We hugged and high-fived on the dock and I believe their first comment was, "How about those waves!"
That night, eight days from leaving Port Townsend, I slept on a motionless Traveler like I may have never slept before.
Take that, confused seas!
What an amazing trip! Love reading all about your day to day adventures. The description when you were trying to sleep, I had the Cupid Shuffle in my head😂slide to the right, slide to the left. Your writings make me feel I’m right there with you all. Stay safe!
This English teacher gives you an “A+“! Truly a gifted writer and adventurer. I felt like I was there (good thing I already had breakfast). Keep up the great sailing and descriptive imagery. After reading tonight, my dinner will be a little hotter and my bed a little cozier!