Up the Coast of Washington

Once across the bar, we made a right turn to head north.  Our running rate on the engine is 2400 RPMs, so we can average about 5.5 knots in favorable ocean conditions (faster in flat water in-land).  Our estimate to reach the Strait of Juan de Fuca was 36 hours.

As we moved further out into the ocean, the swells became larger, growing to 6 feet.  These waves are so different from wind waves.  They are larger, more or less regular but can change frequency and direction with no warning.  These were mild conditions - I can only imagine what harsh conditions must be like!  These waves gave us a slow carnival ride that increased sea sickness in the crew.  Deb and I were the lucky exceptions.  Everyone was using some form of sea sickness prevention - either a patch or Bonine - but with varying success.  Poor Peter seemed to be suffering the most, and spent his off watch time reclining in the stern.

We settled into our agreed upon watch schedule; couples at two hour intervals.  These were short watches, but we planned to continue the same schedule throughout the night and two hours seemed right for our first overnight experience in the ocean.

We watched the coastline recede as we moved farther off shore, until we lost sight of it all together.  Our weather was gray and overcast, but not foggy.  Watch followed watch as we worked our way north through the afternoon.  Eventually we lost sight of land completely.

The crew was bundled up against the cold, but in great spirits, with a hot meal that helped to keep us warm.  Thank goodness for a gimbaled stove.  We were using our off - shift time to nap, in anticipation of a long night.

At one point Becky woke me to tell me they sighted whales off the stern!  I quickly grabbed my camera and dashed up to snap as many shots as I could - these were not the Orcas I am used to seeing in Pudget Sound, but likely greys.

And Then it was night... what an experience!  As I sat at the helm on my watch I found I could not see a thing - no sense of the horizon, little sense of up or down.  It was very disorienting and unless I kept my eye on the compass, the boat was as likely to go in circles as it was to go straight.  Peter and I shared our watches, passing the tiller back and forth at 10 minutes intervals as our eyes grew tired on our late shift.  The crew was mostly silent, sitting at the helm on watch, then falling into the nearest available berth and asleep instantly.

Morning broke and we gathered as folks off shift woke and sought out breakfast.  We exchanged stories from our watches - all had found it as disorienting as Peter and I did.  But we had calm weather all night, with only fishing boats for occasional company, no large ships.






We gradually worked our way closer to shore as we neared the northern edge of our course.  Late in the afternoon we spied land - Tatoosh Island off the Olympic Peninsula.    We carefully rounded to the right to enter the Strait of Juan de Fuca - we have been in the Strait many times, but never the far western entrance, so this was yet another momentous occasion.







We decided to tuck into Neah Bay for the night so that all could get much needed rest.  We dropped anchor and enjoyed a beautiful sunset and a celebratory toast to our successful voyage.  We beat our estimate, clocking 34 hours from the Astoria dock.