The Woods Family Adventure in the San Juan Islands: Sun, Day #1. Spencer Spit

Seals at the marina

There are seals all over the marina - in the water, up on the docks, everywhere you look. In a nearby boat stall was a low, small, carpet-covered platform dock where a pair of seals had sort of took over. As I walked by that morning, I saw what I thought it was just a couple of bags or something laying there. Then the big one picked up his head and looked at me. Wow - wildlife REALLY up close. In the coming days, we would see lots of seals.

First order of business was the dinghy motor, so I called AYC bright & early and left a message. (Remember - this is Sunday morning.)

While waiting for the motor, I had some time to brief my crew on a few matters that didn't get covered yesterday: How to safely walk the side decks. How to safely embark or disembark. What to do if someone falls overboard. Introduce the lines and winches, and how to operate them. (All the control lines were clearly marked, thanks to George.) Where to put a winch handle and a stern warning to not set it down ANYWHERE else under ANY circumstances!

Side note: I wish like heck all sailboat owners around the world would standardize where to run lines, and what colors to use. Aboard Escape, the main sheet and main halyard were REVERSED from what I was used to aboard the boat I crew in races down in Kemah. And of course ALL the line colors were different.

At about 9:00 they brought over a new motor, put it on the rail mount, and tested it. So far, so good. We were finally ready to cast off the dock lines, leave this sheltered marina, and head out into the wild blue yonder. It is always a thrill beyond words when, after all these months and months of planning and waiting and preparing and studying maps and charts and MORE waiting, when that big moment finally arrives. My boat, my crew. And we are on our way!!

Leaving the Anacortes Marina

We clear the point at the northeast corner of Fidalgo Island (I still say it's really a peninsula) and give the command I've been so itching to say: Raise up the mainsail! Unfurl the jib! Engine off. Boys & girls, we are SAILING!!!!

Oh, and one other important matter: Put on some music!

The wind was squirrelly. It would blow, then quit, then blow, change directions, etc. This pattern was to be repeated over the next few days, interspersed with big-blow episodes, dead calms, and everything in between. But for now, it was consistently enough out of the west to sail, even if we were tacking upwind. No problem, tho - Mitch just LOVED manhandling those jib sheets when we did a come-about.

Caroline & Michelle. Finally we are sailing!

Because we left Anacortes about two hours later than planned (because of the dinghy motor), the tidal current situation had changed since my meticulous analysis. So as we entered the Rosario Channel, we experienced some serious currents out of the north. We made it across the channel Ok (even if it did require a little mechanical help from the "iron genny"), but afterwards, I really kicked myself for not pulling out my plotting tools to vector it out, so that our track would have been a reasonably straight line. It's not like I didn't KNOW what the tidal conditions would be! No big deal to the crew, but I know in my heart that, if this had been a race, we would have sucked big-time.

Emily chillin' with a brew

A big realization came to us all out in the middle of the Rosario Channel: it was friggin' COLD out there!! The crew all started out wearing shorts, t-shorts, bikinis, etc, but that didn't last long. The cold would be a constant companion with us for the entire trip. It was generally nice and warm when we went ashore, but out over the water it would range from uncomfortable to down-right bone-chilling. No bikini-clad "hood ornaments" on this boat. Dang it.

But wait - it got even colder after the sun went down! I soon realized that I did not bring enough warm clothes. I guess this is the price to pay, if you want to see snow-capped mountains all around. (Besides, it's hitting 103⁰ in Houston right now.)

Spencer Spit, on the eastern shore of Lopez Island, was our first destination. It has a long, gravelly beach, hiking trails off in the woods, and an inland marsh of some sort. There are lots and lots of boats anchored there. On the beach are camping tents, and piles and piles of driftwood logs. Someone has stacked up the driftwood into crazy sculptures or "forts", whatever you want to call them. Kayakers are everywhere.

Everyone gets ready to go ashore to play and explore. Mitch gets into the dinghy and pulls the starter rope.

And the starter rope breaks off in his hand.

Motor starter rope broke the first time we tried to pull it

O boy-o-boy-o-boy-o-boy-o-boy. They just gave us this blasted dinghy motor! Here comes yet another call to AYC.

Well, to their eternal credit, the guys from AYC made it out to Spencer Spit later that afternoon in a chase boat, and easily found us with the directions I gave them. They changed out the starter assembly, gave it a pull, and all was well. With fingers crossed.

One of the things we all had looked forward to was campfires on the beach. There surely was enough driftwood! Well, it turns out that there is a open fire ban in effect. Signs were everywhere. There has evidently been a big-time drought up here for some time, although you'd never guess it from the green lushness of the forests.