It was two Friday’s ago that I slid Yahtzee’s companionway hatch closed and descended a ladder at Canal Boatyard in Seattle. A long list of projects was organized on a piece of scratch paper at the navigation table, but they all spun in my head. I realized later that next to nearly every item was the name of a friend. These friends, along with many others, would be instrumental in getting all the projects finished and sending Yahtzee back on her way.
We were about halfway across a gray, windless Strait of Juan de Fuca when a westerly breeze filled in and the sun broke through the various levels of clouds above the Olympic Mountains. For the past few days we’d been monitoring the movements of rain and wind brought on by a Pineapple Express that was sweeping through the area. The forecasts had painted a bleak picture of what to expect, so we waited in Friday Harbor to watch it all unfold before making our calculated move south to Bainbridge Island and Seattle where we’ll be hauling Yahtzee out for a fresh coat of paint.
Fortunately, we have grown well aware that in times like these we just need to practice patience and let the plan unfold with what the weather and sometimes unpredictable forecasts give us. Overnight, the strong southerly winds that had been buffeting the region for several days had abated and I thought we would have close to 12 hours before it picked back up again. Waiting to leave was the right call and our window had opened just enough for us to slip out and move south. Continue reading Patience with the Plan Pays Off→
Hand over small hand, Porter clenched tight to the tail of the main halyard as I grinded the winch. When we were done, he scurried over, straddled the coaming and gave it his all to raise the sail just a bit more — in his mind at least. There was a little breeze on the water and I hoped it would pick up so we could enjoy a nice reach across Rosario Strait to our anchorage at Spencer’s Spit State Park. It didn’t. But the sun was shining and mighty Mt. Baker watched us from astern as we made way under power towards Thatcher Pass between Decatur and Blakely Islands. Continue reading S’mores Please→