Ye Shall Know Thy Tidal Currents

(crew: only Dylan & Deetz)

OKAY! I GET IT! I NEED TO PUT SOME THOUGHT INTO THE TIDES BEFORE SETTING SAIL. PLEASE JUST LET ME GAIN ON THAT GOD DAMN BUOY AND I PROMISE I'LL DO MORE RESEARCH NEXT TIME.

... so said Dylan 300 times Friday evening as he and Deetz tried to sail into the wind totally against the current. I guess that up until now I've had too many other things on my mind to give the tides any credit. But no longer. I think we left the Ballard Locks at about 8pm and made it to Bell Harbor Marina (downtown Seattle) around 11pm. What a beat! (For the record this would have taken about 10 minutes of driving time from where we started.)

There was good news though. Once we were in Elliott Bay our spirits were lifted by the the presence of the big city lights above us, ample wind, the thrill of sailing around the industrial city scape, and a fair amount of rum. Against my better judgement I copied Deetz and stood balanced on the rails of the pulpit with my back leaning against the forestay, the city above me and the driving wake splashing below. Once we got to downtown we were having so much fun we headed back out to the center of Elliott Bay for a little more time in this environment before docking.



NOTES ON BELL HARBOR MARINA:
- $35 per night for our 27' boat
- Native Americans have the best slips reserved
- the showers don't need quarters!
- you are walking distance from downtown nightlife

And so we made the most of our pridicament of only making 1/4 of the distance we intended and walked 4 blocks to meet-up with some of Deetz' chronies. I'm incredibly suprised they let me into Twist (fancy pants bar) with my sandals, tattered rugby jersey, and salty wind blown hair. Afterwards we left and were followed by a mermaid. By dawn we had slaughtered enough songs on our blurry guitar that it was time for bed.

Soooooooo ... this caused us to sleep in and, after the mermaid slipped back into the oily harbor she came from, we sailed BACK up wind again AND directly upstream of the current. Sheesh ... clowns!

At 4pm at the north end of Vashon Island we realized there was no f'n way we could make it to the south end of Vashon into the safety of their sweet little naturally protected waters. So for fun we got a little speed on a beam reach to Fauntelory and then back on a beam reach to the marina at Blake Island.

Dock, bullshit with sailors, walk the beach, sad attempt at fishing, grill halibut on the BBQ attached to the stern rail, BBQ comes loose dropping corn into water, Dylan does once in a lifetime save of grilled pesto basil seasoned halibut, eat, discussion of the Grand Sail over gin, and then bed.

NOTES ON BLAKE ISLAND MARINA:
- cheap, only .50/ft
- apparently gets very crowded in summer; many moorings and good places to anchor all around island
- hike and bike trails all over island are great
- sterile state park setting attracts scores of annoying boy scouts (lucky for them they stay out of range of our cannons)

The next day we met an interesting character that invited us onto his beautiful 34' sloop. As his kid spilled small toys everywhere he told recounted scores of stories and useful information in his possibly eastern European accent. He filled a notecard full of tips and Deetz nearly learned something before we left to set sail. The run home was HARMONIOUS. For only the second time ever we hoisted the spinnaker (big balloon like colorful sail; can be a complicated process). We've had ZERO schooling on how to do this. The first time last year was horrible and we only avoided serious disaster by Deetz' luck and my wife's karma. This time, if you were close to us, you would have seen me reading the same page of "Sail Trim Theory" 12 times before I went to set-up the rigging. But from afar I dare say we looked much better than the damn fools we were last time; this time we were clearly AMATEURS. :)

CONCLUSIONS:
- The best part about staying in a marina is meeting all the other people there. It's a great way to get tips, advice, and stories.
- We both know enough to get by raising and tacking with a spinnaker.
- I SWEAR I WILL PAY ATTENTION TO THE TIDES.
- A fun sail could be from the locks to Bell Harbor Marina. Then go party or eat downtown and stumble back to the boat.

Treasure at Smugglers Island

In the last weeks of summer Deetz, Delicate Dan, and I sailed to Smugglers Island. Well, these days it’s called Blake Island but back during prohibition it was a hideout for rum runners. It was all down wind and it was cool to pass across the Seattle skyline wing and wing (e.g. cool, optimized, risky, sail configuration) in the warm summer air.




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Our goal was to learn how to anchor securely so we could go to sleep on the boat without being in a marina. Any dope can throw an anchor overboard but it gets more complicated when you have changing tides, currents, and wind direction. As we came around the corner of the island we saw about a dozen other sailboats anchored with their crew hanging out on the beach around fires. What a great gig these people had and now we got to take our place in the same scene. Suddenly the water next to us exploded into white thrashing! A giant seal had surfaced and was ripping a salmon apart by tossing it side to side violently in the air. He was only 15 feet off starboard and he barely stopped to look us over and then went back to work. They are HUGE! Seeing wildlife up close is a cool perk of not using a motor.

From Sail to Smugglers Island

We tested our anchor as best as we knew how and then pulled out “the dinghy”. It occurred to us that maybe we should have tested it before we needed it. Our dinghy was really just a very cheap blow up raft hardly big enough for two men. It was covered with 4 years of mold which was pretty disgusting to clean off. We tied ropes to it and went over one by one to shore. That night we drank rum and gin, ate well, and played a ton of guitar. Every boat within ½ mile was serenaded, like it or not, to Robert Earl Keen and other Texas folk music.

From Sail to Smugglers Island

The anchor held. I woke up looking at a blue sky as we gently tossed in the waves. We sobered up by diving into the cold clear water off the sailboat and then had some breakfast. Then we made another trip to shore to bury our treasure:
· 200 paces north along the beach
· Climb the shoreline
· Notice a leaning tree marked with a shovel several times
· When you come to the first large madrona tree you’ll find a landing about 10 ft by 10 ft.
· The treasure is in the center of the landing about 4 feet down.

Where do you start? Well, that’s a secret.

From Sail to Smugglers Island

The sail back home was a tough one; six hours or more beating directly up wind as best as we could. Delicate Dan bowed out ¼ way through and retired to the cabin to powder his vagina. It is tiring holding a course in strong winds for that many sustained hours. The boat is keeled over, your legs are constantly braced, and the bow is crashing through the waves. We took a slight diversion off our course to get as close to a big red buoy where two seals were lounging. I can’t imagine how those fat bastards jump 5 feet out of the water to land on that slippery bobbing surface but I guess it’s easy for them. They barely tilted their heads to watch us as we slipped silently by only 20 feet away.

From Sail to Smugglers Island

That was the last sail of the summer. Now we look forward to putting on some foul weather gear and taking on a winter storm at sea. Arrgggghh!!! Drink up me hardies yo ho!

From Sail to Smugglers Island