Seems like I could just have a full blog devoted to my bicycle adventures, since these days there's rarely a dull ride into work. Today's ride featured not one, but *two* of Seattle's Finest patrolling a stop sign in Fremont, trying to catch bikers not stopping for it. Besides the fact that it's not even a major intersection (one street is a one-way and another is a parking lot exit), and the fact they were standing on the side where bikers approach it on the uphill, it just seems crazy that our tax dollars are going toward this. I know I've ranted about the guys at the airport drop-off, but this trumps that several times over. Is it bad of me to hope that there was at least a car-bike accident here that prompted this? Looks like it's just for traffic's sake.
Fortunately for me, the anti-cops actually bonded together enough to tape a sign on to the Burke-Gilman trail right before the street that has the stop sign, and two people on that street verbally warned me about the cops. Good thing I wasn't about a minute earlier, because they were detaining someone as I passed.
On a side note, they could've very well stopped me for not wearing a helmet as I biked within a few feet of them, but they let me go.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Sox games and swimming in Lake Washington
Never one to let a summer weekend slip idly by, I spent this past one attending two Red Sox/Mariners games and also spent my Sunday with friends on the boat, this time venturing into Lake Washington to do some swimming.
The weekend had been forecast to be a scorcher for some time, and it didn't let us down. Temps all three days were in the 90's, which is uncommon in these parts. The Friday night Red Sox game turned out to be the best, since the Sox actually won 9-4 (usually they lose when I go to see them play here). I attended with some friends from work, and was happy to see Red Sox Nation still alive and well in the Pacific Northwest.
Saturday's game was a bit less exciting, since the Sox only got four hits and lost 5-2. The upside was that Vince and I scored some Terrace Club tickets for free from Big Brother/Big Sister. On the way into the ballpark, we had a near-disaster when Vince dropped the tickets out of the envelope they were in. In typical Seattle fashion, another fan behind us passed by, asking us if we had dropped a ticket. These were $55 tickets face-value, and easily could've sold for $100, given the demand.
Sunday was definitely the highlight of the weekend. Ever since I got a boat, I've been wanting to take it into Lake Washington and swim off of it, since the Puget Sound waters are too cold, no matter how hot it is outside. For those of you not familiar with it, Lake Washington is a very large urban lake (the largest such lake, I think, in the country). It is accessible from Puget Sound via the Hiram Chittenden Locks, and requires me to have four drawbridges raised along a 5 mile route from the Locks to the UW.
The day was perfect: 85-92 degrees, without a cloud in the sky. I was hoping to see how many people I could fit comfortably on the boat for such an excursion. For sailing, I try to limit it to 8 people, but I figured since we wouldn't be doing much sailing, I'd try for many more. Turns out we eventually got 11 people on board, and by the time we finally reached the lake after about 2.5 hours en route, everyone was eager to jump in. And they did. Eventually, we did raise the sails for about half an hour, since the wind was really ideal for it, but the evening was approached with the long haul back, so we didn't keep them up for long. Can't wait to do this again!
Here is a link to Sunday's pictures.
The weekend had been forecast to be a scorcher for some time, and it didn't let us down. Temps all three days were in the 90's, which is uncommon in these parts. The Friday night Red Sox game turned out to be the best, since the Sox actually won 9-4 (usually they lose when I go to see them play here). I attended with some friends from work, and was happy to see Red Sox Nation still alive and well in the Pacific Northwest.
Saturday's game was a bit less exciting, since the Sox only got four hits and lost 5-2. The upside was that Vince and I scored some Terrace Club tickets for free from Big Brother/Big Sister. On the way into the ballpark, we had a near-disaster when Vince dropped the tickets out of the envelope they were in. In typical Seattle fashion, another fan behind us passed by, asking us if we had dropped a ticket. These were $55 tickets face-value, and easily could've sold for $100, given the demand.
Sunday was definitely the highlight of the weekend. Ever since I got a boat, I've been wanting to take it into Lake Washington and swim off of it, since the Puget Sound waters are too cold, no matter how hot it is outside. For those of you not familiar with it, Lake Washington is a very large urban lake (the largest such lake, I think, in the country). It is accessible from Puget Sound via the Hiram Chittenden Locks, and requires me to have four drawbridges raised along a 5 mile route from the Locks to the UW.
The day was perfect: 85-92 degrees, without a cloud in the sky. I was hoping to see how many people I could fit comfortably on the boat for such an excursion. For sailing, I try to limit it to 8 people, but I figured since we wouldn't be doing much sailing, I'd try for many more. Turns out we eventually got 11 people on board, and by the time we finally reached the lake after about 2.5 hours en route, everyone was eager to jump in. And they did. Eventually, we did raise the sails for about half an hour, since the wind was really ideal for it, but the evening was approached with the long haul back, so we didn't keep them up for long. Can't wait to do this again!
Here is a link to Sunday's pictures.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
So long Sadie :(
Tonight, I brought Sadie down to a place called "Wags 2 Whiskers", which is a doggy day care and boarding place downtown. There she will be staying until she finds a new foster family or forever family. It was depressing. She was all excited to be going in the car, so innocent. When I got there and saw where she would be living, I couldn't help but think of how much better she had it in my house. I won't be the least bit surprised if I get a call in the next few days/weeks saying she is not a good fit for there.
So what I've decided is this: she will not be going back to the shelter (which has been having to put down three dogs per day recently). If she has any problems at W2W, she can come live with me again on a foster basis, during which time I will definitely put her in formal training to help solve her aggression problem. If she succeeds, I'll give strong consideration to adopting her. Despite my loss of patience with her this weekend, I honestly believe that I'm capable of having a dog, especially one that has already been house-trained and gone to obedience classes.
So what I've decided is this: she will not be going back to the shelter (which has been having to put down three dogs per day recently). If she has any problems at W2W, she can come live with me again on a foster basis, during which time I will definitely put her in formal training to help solve her aggression problem. If she succeeds, I'll give strong consideration to adopting her. Despite my loss of patience with her this weekend, I honestly believe that I'm capable of having a dog, especially one that has already been house-trained and gone to obedience classes.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
We broke a stripper ring!
While out sailing last night on the Sound, we noticed a broken piece of plastic caught up in one of the lines. I realized that it broke off the winch, but I didn't know what exactly the part was called. After coming back and doing some research, it turned out the the stripper ring on the winch was broken. How's that for some sailing lingo? It's not nearly as dirty as it sounds...
In other news, I believe Thursday will be the last day I have Sadie in my custody. I'll be dropping her off at doggy day care place, where she'll stay until she finds a "forever" home. I have mixed feelings, but feel that this is the right decision for both of us. She does seem to enjoy life in my house, but I just can't meet all of her needs, and in the end, she lets me know about it. I will miss her.
In other news, I believe Thursday will be the last day I have Sadie in my custody. I'll be dropping her off at doggy day care place, where she'll stay until she finds a "forever" home. I have mixed feelings, but feel that this is the right decision for both of us. She does seem to enjoy life in my house, but I just can't meet all of her needs, and in the end, she lets me know about it. I will miss her.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Dogs are good for not backing out at the last minute!
This weekend featured not one, not two, but THREE people backing out on me at the last minute. Maybe it's the cell phone, call-from-anywhere culture that we live that makes people think they could just put you off on a moment's notice, but I *really* wish that trend would take a turn in the opposite direction. It's very annoying.
I awoke Saturday morning hoping to show Sadie off to a potential adopter at 8:30am, and then go pick up Vince at 10am to take him to Mercer Island to play a one of my work games/cartridges. However, the guy never showed up for Sadie, and when I came upstairs to check messages, I had a call from Vince saying that he had to mow his dad's lawn, and he was real sorry, and...hmmph. Sadie, during all this, had decided that the toiletbowl had more tasty water than her water bowl. Quite a morning.
I ended up going to Mercer Island anyway with Sadie, to meet up with Raine and his wife, attempting the play the cartridge (which I tested last Monday and it seemed awesome). Unfortunately, some changes were made between then and now which caused the cartridge to fail miserably. Making matters somewhat worse was the fact that I seemed to be the only dog owner actually adhering to the on-leash laws. Sometimes I wish Sadie would just bite one of them, since it's not uncommon for the on-leash dog to be aggressive toward the off-leash dog, and we all know Sadie doesn't need another reason to be aggressive! She enjoyed her swim though (she's getting much more comfortable in the water), so it wasn't a complete waste of time.
Sunday morning I had intended to go hike Mailbox Peak with my friend Kevin, but he called to tell me he had been playing soccer the previous day and his knee was sore, and he'd have to back out. So once again, it was Sadie and me headed off to the Alpine Lakes Wilderness for a hike to Pratt Lake (about 12 miles R/T and 3,000 foot gain). This was actually my first hike of the summer, and I figured I could handle it, right? This happened to be the first hike I've ever done solo.
Well, it turned out to be a lot harder than I expected. I guess I'm just horribly out of hiking shape. By the time we reached the lake, I felt like I was done. Sadie, on the other hand was plenty happy to go for a swim (video clip here). Needless to say, hiking with her is more challenging than it is with most dogs, because she growls at just about every person and dog. She has appointed herself to be my protector, I think, and will stop at nothing trying to intimidate anyone we come across. My options in these situations are two: let her rush at the person/dog, barking, or put her on the leash and try to hold her back, as she chokes herself and barks anyway. Trails aren't so wide, though, so most of the time I went with the first option, which resulted in lots of scared people but no injuries. :)
The hike was beautiful, in part because the day was beautiful. It was one of those sunny, 75-80 degree days without a cloud in the sky that never seems to get mentioned much outside of Seattle. Our little secret, I guess. It was wildflower season, which meant that, aside from increased bugs, there were numerous exotic-colored flowers that I didn't take pictures of. We had a beautiful lookout over Olallie Lake toward Mt. Rainier (pictured), and some of the higher peaks still retained patches of snow (the sign of a good winter). We're both very pooped right now, and I was ready to go to bed at 7:30pm. What a day!
For pictures from the hike, click here.
I awoke Saturday morning hoping to show Sadie off to a potential adopter at 8:30am, and then go pick up Vince at 10am to take him to Mercer Island to play a one of my work games/cartridges. However, the guy never showed up for Sadie, and when I came upstairs to check messages, I had a call from Vince saying that he had to mow his dad's lawn, and he was real sorry, and...hmmph. Sadie, during all this, had decided that the toiletbowl had more tasty water than her water bowl. Quite a morning.
I ended up going to Mercer Island anyway with Sadie, to meet up with Raine and his wife, attempting the play the cartridge (which I tested last Monday and it seemed awesome). Unfortunately, some changes were made between then and now which caused the cartridge to fail miserably. Making matters somewhat worse was the fact that I seemed to be the only dog owner actually adhering to the on-leash laws. Sometimes I wish Sadie would just bite one of them, since it's not uncommon for the on-leash dog to be aggressive toward the off-leash dog, and we all know Sadie doesn't need another reason to be aggressive! She enjoyed her swim though (she's getting much more comfortable in the water), so it wasn't a complete waste of time.
Sunday morning I had intended to go hike Mailbox Peak with my friend Kevin, but he called to tell me he had been playing soccer the previous day and his knee was sore, and he'd have to back out. So once again, it was Sadie and me headed off to the Alpine Lakes Wilderness for a hike to Pratt Lake (about 12 miles R/T and 3,000 foot gain). This was actually my first hike of the summer, and I figured I could handle it, right? This happened to be the first hike I've ever done solo.
Well, it turned out to be a lot harder than I expected. I guess I'm just horribly out of hiking shape. By the time we reached the lake, I felt like I was done. Sadie, on the other hand was plenty happy to go for a swim (video clip here). Needless to say, hiking with her is more challenging than it is with most dogs, because she growls at just about every person and dog. She has appointed herself to be my protector, I think, and will stop at nothing trying to intimidate anyone we come across. My options in these situations are two: let her rush at the person/dog, barking, or put her on the leash and try to hold her back, as she chokes herself and barks anyway. Trails aren't so wide, though, so most of the time I went with the first option, which resulted in lots of scared people but no injuries. :)
The hike was beautiful, in part because the day was beautiful. It was one of those sunny, 75-80 degree days without a cloud in the sky that never seems to get mentioned much outside of Seattle. Our little secret, I guess. It was wildflower season, which meant that, aside from increased bugs, there were numerous exotic-colored flowers that I didn't take pictures of. We had a beautiful lookout over Olallie Lake toward Mt. Rainier (pictured), and some of the higher peaks still retained patches of snow (the sign of a good winter). We're both very pooped right now, and I was ready to go to bed at 7:30pm. What a day!
For pictures from the hike, click here.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Typical Seattle
Some people think typical Seattle is drizzle and coffee. Some people think it's a bunch of eco-freaks and computer nerds. Those are true, of course :). But I happen to think that one of the things that makes Seattle unique is how strangers you meet in public are so eager to tell you how to do stuff. It's not the same kind of snooty stuff you'd find on the east coast, but rather a genuine care in helping you live a better life. At least that's how it comes off, whether it's telling me I should wear a helmet when biking (what do you care?) or reprimanding me for getting plastic bags at the grocery store (I have a dog and re-use them!). People like to get into your business.
So it came as no surprise that the more yardwork I do, the more people will tell me how I *should* do things. I don't really mind -- I thinks it's funny (and sometimes helpful), so I usually listen. And given that I'm on a corner lot with twice as much frontage as most lots, I get a lot of advice.
Tonight was particularly humorous. I was edging a strip of grass with one of those Luddite manual edgers, and a guy walks by and the conversation goes something like this:
"Do you have a weedeater?"
"No"
"A gas-powered weedeater would have that job done in two minutes. I work for the Parks Department."
"Oh? That's OK, I can't justify it for the two times a year I might use it. Besides, it's good exercise" (it does make me sweat using the manual one)
"Well that's just a waste of your time"
...and he rambles off. Gee, thanks. Maybe I'll run out and get one now.
But here's the funny part. As soon as he left, I called Tracy to tell her about these people (he's not the first), and *while I'm on the phone*, not a minute later, another guy stops his beater car in the traffic circle, leans over to open up his passenger door, and proceeds to lecture me some more. "You should really get an earplug [for the phone]. Low level radiation from cell phones can cause brain damage to good brains like the one you've got. I do research at the University of Washington, and..." By this point I thank him and turn my back to return to work, suppressing my laughter. After all, this is the *second* time in the last month that this guy has stopped to give me a piece of advice while I've been working outside.
Welcome to Seattle.
So it came as no surprise that the more yardwork I do, the more people will tell me how I *should* do things. I don't really mind -- I thinks it's funny (and sometimes helpful), so I usually listen. And given that I'm on a corner lot with twice as much frontage as most lots, I get a lot of advice.
Tonight was particularly humorous. I was edging a strip of grass with one of those Luddite manual edgers, and a guy walks by and the conversation goes something like this:
"Do you have a weedeater?"
"No"
"A gas-powered weedeater would have that job done in two minutes. I work for the Parks Department."
"Oh? That's OK, I can't justify it for the two times a year I might use it. Besides, it's good exercise" (it does make me sweat using the manual one)
"Well that's just a waste of your time"
...and he rambles off. Gee, thanks. Maybe I'll run out and get one now.
But here's the funny part. As soon as he left, I called Tracy to tell her about these people (he's not the first), and *while I'm on the phone*, not a minute later, another guy stops his beater car in the traffic circle, leans over to open up his passenger door, and proceeds to lecture me some more. "You should really get an earplug [for the phone]. Low level radiation from cell phones can cause brain damage to good brains like the one you've got. I do research at the University of Washington, and..." By this point I thank him and turn my back to return to work, suppressing my laughter. After all, this is the *second* time in the last month that this guy has stopped to give me a piece of advice while I've been working outside.
Welcome to Seattle.
San Diego Surprise
This past weekend was the only one this summer that Tracy had both Saturday and Sunday off, and therefore presented the best opportunity to maximize our time spent together. She told me about it as soon as she got her schedule, and immediately tried to talk me into coming down. The only problem was, I wasn't really that interested in rushing off again. After spending four days on the water last weekend, and having my hands full with Sadie and two major projects going on in my house, as well as a complete turnover of roommates, I was thinking that my time would be best spent at home, catching my breath a bit.
However, on second thought, I knew that if I didn't go visit this weekend, I might not see her again until a wedding in Chicago in late September. So, unbeknownst to her, I booked a flight down there that fit perfectly around my work schedule so that I didn't have to take any time (which I don't have) or sacrifice time with her. My scheme was to tell her I was going to a movie with Vince on Friday night, calling her right beforehand and saying I needed to go, would it be possible to call back after the movie (my flight)? It couldn't have gone better. She was going out with friends and actually cut ME short, and by the time my flight landed, a message from her said that I had about half an hour left before she was going to bed. A short taxi ride landed me on her front step, but she wasn't answering her phone! I considered breaking in, or buzzing some random person in her apartment building, but then she called me back and all was good. She was genuinely shocked to see me.
The rest of the weekend was gravy. We spent some time on the beach, drove around through some of the neighborhoods to get a feel for the city, had a date night (dinner and a movie), etc. By the time I left, I think I had garnered enough good will so that I won't have to do anything that drastic anytime soon (I was getting in the doghouse for my reluctance to come down!). Ironically, she had flirted with the idea of a last-second trip up to Seattle, but smartly decided that wasn't worth it. It's a good thing, since I didn't really have a contingency plan had she decided to go that route!
However, on second thought, I knew that if I didn't go visit this weekend, I might not see her again until a wedding in Chicago in late September. So, unbeknownst to her, I booked a flight down there that fit perfectly around my work schedule so that I didn't have to take any time (which I don't have) or sacrifice time with her. My scheme was to tell her I was going to a movie with Vince on Friday night, calling her right beforehand and saying I needed to go, would it be possible to call back after the movie (my flight)? It couldn't have gone better. She was going out with friends and actually cut ME short, and by the time my flight landed, a message from her said that I had about half an hour left before she was going to bed. A short taxi ride landed me on her front step, but she wasn't answering her phone! I considered breaking in, or buzzing some random person in her apartment building, but then she called me back and all was good. She was genuinely shocked to see me.
The rest of the weekend was gravy. We spent some time on the beach, drove around through some of the neighborhoods to get a feel for the city, had a date night (dinner and a movie), etc. By the time I left, I think I had garnered enough good will so that I won't have to do anything that drastic anytime soon (I was getting in the doghouse for my reluctance to come down!). Ironically, she had flirted with the idea of a last-second trip up to Seattle, but smartly decided that wasn't worth it. It's a good thing, since I didn't really have a contingency plan had she decided to go that route!
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Cruising the San Juans
About a year after I planned my big sailing trip to the San Juans, it finally came to fruition this weekend (thanks to a rare 4-day weekend from work). I juggled around about a thousand different itineraries before settling on leaving late Friday night, heading toward Port Townsend for Saturday morning, breaking for breakfast, and then leaving for Friday Harbor on San Juan Island. Once there, we'd play it by ear to see what people wanted.
Night 0:
After dropping off a car in Anacortes (our ride home) the crew gathered at Shilshole at 2200 to load the boat and set sail for Port Townsend. On board were Holly, Chris, Kimmy, Adam B., Kevin, and myself. Fortunately, there wasn't a whole lot of wind, which meant a straight shot under motor (I'm beginning to hate the engine less and less with each passing trip). Clear skies and moderate temperatures were forecast for the whole weekend, and I couldn't be happier. Ask any Seattleite and they'll tell you how summer doesn't start till July 5. The trip up was uneventful for the most part. I stayed up the entire time, and my crew switched in out (people slept when not on watch). The most interesting happening came around 3am or 4am, when I came across Seattle-bound cruise ships in Admiralty Inlet. I spotted the port (red) light on the bow of the first ship, but couldn't believe he was taking such a broad angle down the channel, so I accidentally pointed my boat toward him (in an attempt to elude him). Naturally, he then pointed directly at me, so that I could see both bow lights, and given the his speed, I knew I might be in some trouble. I quickly changed course and headed toward the northbound lane (where I was supposed to be in the first place), and missed him by a few hundred yards. Scary! That's the last time I don't trust the textbook! Shortly thereafter, with Kevin as my watchman, I tried opening up the sails as the wind picked up. During our first tack, we noticed that the jib leech (the back edge) was getting caught on the port side spreader while the rest of the sail tried to come across, creating a large tear. Bad news for the first night out! After pulling the sails in, we headed into Port Townsend without further incident.
Day 1:
After a much needed two-hour nap in Port Townsend, we headed out for breakfast and sail tape before heading back to the boat to repair the sails. Around 1100, we set sail for the San Juans, which meant a crossing of the Strait of Juan de Fuca, the channel connecting Puget Sound to the Pacific Ocean. I had never sailed this before, and was a little fearful of what the open-ocean conditions would bring. It turns out my fears were well-founded. After about half an hour of good sailing, we cleared the point and the swells began -- 4 to 6 feet in height, every 3 or 4 seconds. The waves were moving from west to east, and, since we were trying to head north, going directly at our target was not an option (too much rolling). Instead, we had the motor through the waves, first in a northwest direction, and then surf with them in an northeast direction. It seemed to take forever, although in reality it was only about 20 nautical miles and 4-5 hours. Most of my crew was seasick (I was not), and we unanimously decided that it was time to get off the boat for a while as soon as we could. Unfortunately, stuck in the middle of a vast channel without so much as another boat within view, we knew it would be a while. Eventually, the swells settled down considerably about a mile from the entrance to Cattle Pass, our portal to the San Juans that separated San Juan and Lopez Islands. By 5:30, we had safely arrived at Friday Harbor, exhausted, nauseated, and ready for the warm and serene setting that awaited us.
Night 1:
The first thing I wanted to do after we docked was lay down and soak up the sun. Even the cement float that we were tied to was comfortable enough for me, especially since I had slept only two hours the night before. It wasn't nearly as full as I thought it would be, given that it was a holiday weekend. The weather, as it did all weekend, cooperated wonderfully -- mid 70's with a light breeze. Mt. Baker to the east gleamed in the afternoon sun, and L'Attiude's crew went out for a brew pub for dinner and beer. More than one person admitted to feeling like they were still rocking while at dinner -- such is the effect of long sails. After dinner we convened on the dock for some sing-along guitar courtesy of Adam B., before hitting the hay shortly after nightfall.
Day 2:
We began the day with some bagels and a much-appreciated shower at the marina. After pumping out the holding tank and swapping Holly (who needed to work on Monday) for Owen (who took the ferry in from Anacortes), we were once again on the water en route to James Island, which is east of Decatur and Lopez Islands. From our guide books, we learned that James Island is a small, hourglass-shaped marine state park, with boat-in access only. Besides some good trails and campsites, its claim to fame was the bandit raccoons that call it home. This would come into play later in our trip. The sail itself featured on-again, off-again winds, but for the most part we successfully avoided using the engine. We were not fortunate enough to come across any orcas, but we did happen upon a school of porpoises, much to Kimmy's delight. Overall it was a very calm and relaxed sail, in great contrast to the previous day's voyage.
Night 2:
We arrived at the island at about 1700, and rafted up to a motoryacht at the island's dock. Kimmy, Chris, Adam, and Owen then unloaded their camping gear and cookware and moved it over to their campsite, where they'd be spending the night. Kevin and I were to sleep on the boat. Dinner that night featured grilled brats and zucchini, followed up by the obligatory s'mores over the campfire. The setting was awesome, with two eastern facing coves overlooking Cypress Island and Mt. Baker.
Day 3:
Even after all of our sailing/motoring, I was still eager to explore some new territory. So on Monday, after fine breakfast of eggs, bacon, and french toast, Kevin and I set sail for Doe Island, another marine state park about 10 miles to the north, just a stone's throw from Orcas Island. The other four stayed back to hang out on the island, which worked well for everyone. Our route to Doe Island took us through Rosario Strait, about which I had been warned by multiple people. No worries though. The wind was blowing at about 10-15 knots from the south, perfect for our course, and we our destination in just over two hours. Doe Island itself is quite small, and could be circumnavigated in about 10 minutes. Even so, it had a nice small dock to tie up to. Figuring that this would be the closest we'd get to civilization, Kevin and I attempted to get rid of our rapidly accumulating garbage by paddling it over to the Orcas shore. Kimmy and Chris had brought along an inflatable canoe that would transport us. This turned out to be quite an operation. Getting the canoe pumped up was a long and tedious process, and paddling the 50 yards to shore was even more awkward, given the instability of the canoe. Once we made it ashore, we weren't sure where to go with our trash, as it seemed like we were surrounded by water and private property. Kevin asked a woman, who was out on her back deck, where Doe Bay was (our intended target), and apparently we were one bay off, with no possibility of getting there. So we felt stupid as we paddled our trash back to the boat and headed back to James Island in a stiff 15-20 knot southerly.
Night 3:
We arrived back at the dock at 1910, about ten minutes past our intended time, which is great, considering the uncertainty of the winds. There was even dock space available, which seemed like a great idea at the time (we had initially intended to tie up to a mooring ball on the east side of the island, near camp, but after the ordeal with the trash and canoe, decided to play it safe). Dinner consisted of steak kabobs on the grill, and we played board games, guitar, and ate s'mores for the rest of the night. Around 2330, Kevin and I decided to turn in for the night. Upon returning to the boat, we were greeted with an arresting sight. Three raccoons had found there way into the cockpit, and we had to scare them away. Then I realized I had left the window to the aft berth open, and immediately feared the worst. Kevin opened the hatch and confirmed my worries. The raccoons had gotten *everywhere*, and had completely torn apart all of our accumulated trash, leaving eggshells, butter wrappers, etc. strewn all over the floor of the main salon. What a mess! Getting to bed that night took an extra long time, but eventually we got the mess cleaned up enough to sleep.
Day 4:
Our plan for the day was to get up and sail/motor back to Anacortes, about 9 nautical miles east of James Island, and hand the boat over to the next charter at noon. Surprisingly, everything went smoothly -- we fueled up, pumped out, cleaned out the boat, and handed over the keys right on time. I cannot overstate how excellent my crew was on this trip, during the long sails, food preparation, and cleaning up the boat upon our return. I couldn't have picked out a finer group, and I was impressed by their perseverance in some pretty tough conditions.
Overall, it was a splendid weekend. The weather couldn't have been better, the wind was ideal, and despite a few nicks, the boat performed admirably. For what it's worth, I never got to put my anchoring skills into practice, but that made things nice and easy on everyone. I thought this cruise would satisfy my sailing bug to the point where I wouldn't need to do another long trip for a while, but instead, I think it did the opposite. I could've stayed up in the islands for a week, and I'm much more inclined to do a similar trip to the south Sound, which is a lot closer than the San Juans.
For all the pictures from the trip, follow this link
Night 0:
After dropping off a car in Anacortes (our ride home) the crew gathered at Shilshole at 2200 to load the boat and set sail for Port Townsend. On board were Holly, Chris, Kimmy, Adam B., Kevin, and myself. Fortunately, there wasn't a whole lot of wind, which meant a straight shot under motor (I'm beginning to hate the engine less and less with each passing trip). Clear skies and moderate temperatures were forecast for the whole weekend, and I couldn't be happier. Ask any Seattleite and they'll tell you how summer doesn't start till July 5. The trip up was uneventful for the most part. I stayed up the entire time, and my crew switched in out (people slept when not on watch). The most interesting happening came around 3am or 4am, when I came across Seattle-bound cruise ships in Admiralty Inlet. I spotted the port (red) light on the bow of the first ship, but couldn't believe he was taking such a broad angle down the channel, so I accidentally pointed my boat toward him (in an attempt to elude him). Naturally, he then pointed directly at me, so that I could see both bow lights, and given the his speed, I knew I might be in some trouble. I quickly changed course and headed toward the northbound lane (where I was supposed to be in the first place), and missed him by a few hundred yards. Scary! That's the last time I don't trust the textbook! Shortly thereafter, with Kevin as my watchman, I tried opening up the sails as the wind picked up. During our first tack, we noticed that the jib leech (the back edge) was getting caught on the port side spreader while the rest of the sail tried to come across, creating a large tear. Bad news for the first night out! After pulling the sails in, we headed into Port Townsend without further incident.
Day 1:
After a much needed two-hour nap in Port Townsend, we headed out for breakfast and sail tape before heading back to the boat to repair the sails. Around 1100, we set sail for the San Juans, which meant a crossing of the Strait of Juan de Fuca, the channel connecting Puget Sound to the Pacific Ocean. I had never sailed this before, and was a little fearful of what the open-ocean conditions would bring. It turns out my fears were well-founded. After about half an hour of good sailing, we cleared the point and the swells began -- 4 to 6 feet in height, every 3 or 4 seconds. The waves were moving from west to east, and, since we were trying to head north, going directly at our target was not an option (too much rolling). Instead, we had the motor through the waves, first in a northwest direction, and then surf with them in an northeast direction. It seemed to take forever, although in reality it was only about 20 nautical miles and 4-5 hours. Most of my crew was seasick (I was not), and we unanimously decided that it was time to get off the boat for a while as soon as we could. Unfortunately, stuck in the middle of a vast channel without so much as another boat within view, we knew it would be a while. Eventually, the swells settled down considerably about a mile from the entrance to Cattle Pass, our portal to the San Juans that separated San Juan and Lopez Islands. By 5:30, we had safely arrived at Friday Harbor, exhausted, nauseated, and ready for the warm and serene setting that awaited us.
Night 1:
The first thing I wanted to do after we docked was lay down and soak up the sun. Even the cement float that we were tied to was comfortable enough for me, especially since I had slept only two hours the night before. It wasn't nearly as full as I thought it would be, given that it was a holiday weekend. The weather, as it did all weekend, cooperated wonderfully -- mid 70's with a light breeze. Mt. Baker to the east gleamed in the afternoon sun, and L'Attiude's crew went out for a brew pub for dinner and beer. More than one person admitted to feeling like they were still rocking while at dinner -- such is the effect of long sails. After dinner we convened on the dock for some sing-along guitar courtesy of Adam B., before hitting the hay shortly after nightfall.
Day 2:
We began the day with some bagels and a much-appreciated shower at the marina. After pumping out the holding tank and swapping Holly (who needed to work on Monday) for Owen (who took the ferry in from Anacortes), we were once again on the water en route to James Island, which is east of Decatur and Lopez Islands. From our guide books, we learned that James Island is a small, hourglass-shaped marine state park, with boat-in access only. Besides some good trails and campsites, its claim to fame was the bandit raccoons that call it home. This would come into play later in our trip. The sail itself featured on-again, off-again winds, but for the most part we successfully avoided using the engine. We were not fortunate enough to come across any orcas, but we did happen upon a school of porpoises, much to Kimmy's delight. Overall it was a very calm and relaxed sail, in great contrast to the previous day's voyage.
Night 2:
We arrived at the island at about 1700, and rafted up to a motoryacht at the island's dock. Kimmy, Chris, Adam, and Owen then unloaded their camping gear and cookware and moved it over to their campsite, where they'd be spending the night. Kevin and I were to sleep on the boat. Dinner that night featured grilled brats and zucchini, followed up by the obligatory s'mores over the campfire. The setting was awesome, with two eastern facing coves overlooking Cypress Island and Mt. Baker.
Day 3:
Even after all of our sailing/motoring, I was still eager to explore some new territory. So on Monday, after fine breakfast of eggs, bacon, and french toast, Kevin and I set sail for Doe Island, another marine state park about 10 miles to the north, just a stone's throw from Orcas Island. The other four stayed back to hang out on the island, which worked well for everyone. Our route to Doe Island took us through Rosario Strait, about which I had been warned by multiple people. No worries though. The wind was blowing at about 10-15 knots from the south, perfect for our course, and we our destination in just over two hours. Doe Island itself is quite small, and could be circumnavigated in about 10 minutes. Even so, it had a nice small dock to tie up to. Figuring that this would be the closest we'd get to civilization, Kevin and I attempted to get rid of our rapidly accumulating garbage by paddling it over to the Orcas shore. Kimmy and Chris had brought along an inflatable canoe that would transport us. This turned out to be quite an operation. Getting the canoe pumped up was a long and tedious process, and paddling the 50 yards to shore was even more awkward, given the instability of the canoe. Once we made it ashore, we weren't sure where to go with our trash, as it seemed like we were surrounded by water and private property. Kevin asked a woman, who was out on her back deck, where Doe Bay was (our intended target), and apparently we were one bay off, with no possibility of getting there. So we felt stupid as we paddled our trash back to the boat and headed back to James Island in a stiff 15-20 knot southerly.
Night 3:
We arrived back at the dock at 1910, about ten minutes past our intended time, which is great, considering the uncertainty of the winds. There was even dock space available, which seemed like a great idea at the time (we had initially intended to tie up to a mooring ball on the east side of the island, near camp, but after the ordeal with the trash and canoe, decided to play it safe). Dinner consisted of steak kabobs on the grill, and we played board games, guitar, and ate s'mores for the rest of the night. Around 2330, Kevin and I decided to turn in for the night. Upon returning to the boat, we were greeted with an arresting sight. Three raccoons had found there way into the cockpit, and we had to scare them away. Then I realized I had left the window to the aft berth open, and immediately feared the worst. Kevin opened the hatch and confirmed my worries. The raccoons had gotten *everywhere*, and had completely torn apart all of our accumulated trash, leaving eggshells, butter wrappers, etc. strewn all over the floor of the main salon. What a mess! Getting to bed that night took an extra long time, but eventually we got the mess cleaned up enough to sleep.
Day 4:
Our plan for the day was to get up and sail/motor back to Anacortes, about 9 nautical miles east of James Island, and hand the boat over to the next charter at noon. Surprisingly, everything went smoothly -- we fueled up, pumped out, cleaned out the boat, and handed over the keys right on time. I cannot overstate how excellent my crew was on this trip, during the long sails, food preparation, and cleaning up the boat upon our return. I couldn't have picked out a finer group, and I was impressed by their perseverance in some pretty tough conditions.
Overall, it was a splendid weekend. The weather couldn't have been better, the wind was ideal, and despite a few nicks, the boat performed admirably. For what it's worth, I never got to put my anchoring skills into practice, but that made things nice and easy on everyone. I thought this cruise would satisfy my sailing bug to the point where I wouldn't need to do another long trip for a while, but instead, I think it did the opposite. I could've stayed up in the islands for a week, and I'm much more inclined to do a similar trip to the south Sound, which is a lot closer than the San Juans.
For all the pictures from the trip, follow this link
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