"Two Windy Weeks In Friday Harbor In Which Darzee Goes On An Adventure"
We awoke to this view of Mount Baker across San Juan Channel from Friday Harbor's North Cove. Late that afternoon, as we settled ourselves and Rikki-tikki alongside the little barge in Hong Kong Basin, we met the caretaker of the barge, Jim, a very reserved fellow. He is known in Friday Harbor as a creative- local art galleries sold his jewelry and very-much-in-demand, fantastically detailed miniature buildings built inside bottles. He even designed and built the special miniature tools that this kind of weensy construction required. Now he writes stories and articles from the confines of his little boat moored out in The Basin. We marvelled at the tales he had to tell of past experiences living in a myriad of boats- all very tiny- a canoe (would you believe?), a West Wight Potter, now an 18' powerboat named "Patna".
Our view of the Port of Friday Harbor from The Barge.
We had been to Friday Harbor once before- in the company of two other boats, four of us aboard a chartered Catalina 36 named "Norma Jean". It was 1995 or thereabouts, 4th of July, and we had a great time watching the local Independence Day parade featuring kids towing their dogs and smaller siblings in decorated wagons. There were brass bands, lots of waving flags, firetrucks demonstrating their water power. It was truly small-town America stuff. Hot dogs were on the grill and lawn games were played in the sunken park. The community egg toss was especially fun. Dozens of participants were defeated, impossibly and at long last, by a very small boy whose egg, despite hitting the grass many times, simply refused to break. At the end, his egg had to be broken by the judge to prove it wasn't hard boiled!
Our 2006 visit was cold, windy and gray most days, it being January, not July. The crowds of boats waiting to get a slip were absent, as were the lightly dressed sailors wearing sunhats. Friday Harbor residents had their town to themselves for the winter. We tried to blend in. It was our good furtune to have made the acquaintance of two locals while at Nanaimo's Newcastle Island back in August. Rod and Barbara live right off the main street around the corner from the big grocery and they wanted some advice on remodeling their home. They also desired our opinion on several homes that were under construction with the idea they would purchase one as a rental investment. Since building is Clark's area of expertise, they "hired" us to do some consulting. We enjoyed many hours of discussion, friendship and were given the opportunity to see a couple of very nice homes, plus a little of the island itself.
Washington State Ferries call several times a day, leaving a rolling wake with each passing.
We were invited to a Super Bowl Party. We don't enjoy football and neither does Rod, so we spent the time walking along country roads with our hostess and enjoying great conversation. We met several other sailor folks- our hosts were long-time SF Bay Area sailors and owned Bird Boat #18 for 25 years. They later owned and raced a Farallone Clipper, a classy classic wooden sailboat. We felt like newborns talking to Dan and Eileen about sailing. Their home on San Juan Island is cozy and filled with books, a lovingly built wood dinghy resides in the shop. The rooms feature a terrific view over Griffin Bay and San Juan Channel.
On one of the two days we had sun, Clark and I filled our rolling insulated bag at "The Marketplace".
In between our forays away from Rikki-tikki with new friends, we endured unpleasant weather, both while tied to The Barge and in the marina. We backed into two slips at the Port of Friday Harbor (they only charged us for one). Big winds were forecast and the minus tides would have set us into the mud in Hong Kong Basin, so we sought refuge of a sort tied to pilings and docks in deeper water. Sure enough, the winds reached 55 knots- that's 63 mph! The waves leaped all the way over the docks even inside the breakwater. When the winds ceased, we moved back to the barge and went back to rowing Darzee into the dinghy dock. It was cheaper.
Our double-wide "G Dock" slip in the Port of Friday Harbor.
Local color inside the Port docks.
The Port of Friday Harbor before the wind began.
Back on The Barge, another rainy windstorm blew in overnight. Clark got up in the morning, made coffee and sat down in the settee to enjoy it. He usually sits on the starboard side where we tie Darzee up between the vaka (the main hull) and the ama (the outer hull), using a three-point arrangement to keep him from banging into the hulls in the wind and waves. I arrived in the galley just in time for Clark to take a look outside to find that Darzee was gone! Darzee had taken a "walk", gone on an adventure of his own, without us. It was raining. The wind was blowing very hard. Lucky for us it was blowing toward the shore behind us. How did Darzee get loose? Unbeknownst to me, Clark had moved Darzee to the barge before we went to bed. Whatever knot he used, the waves had managed to untie.
I grabbed the binoculars and searched anxiously along the shoreline. The tide was extremely high and lots of flotsam was piled up against the land. There, among a bunch of large logs, bobbed our lost tender, but we had no way of getting over to him. We thought, no problem, the tide will go out and leave Darzee high and dry. We can have Rod go down to get him later. Just as we voiced our solution, the wind shifted completely around and Darzee started to float out away from shore. I started to get very worried and fetched my drysuit from the ama, intending to swim to shore and retrieve our little taxi before he was blown out into the channel. Clark nixed my swimming. I got out my new dock hook and posted myself on deck, just in case Darzee was close enough to snag on his way past. Meanwhile, we called (we still had our GoPhone!) and left voicemail for Rod- could he come rescue Darzee?
The morning before the storm that blew Darzee away. Nice and calm.
With every gust of wind, we crossed our fingers that the jetsam surrounding Darzee would hold him close enough to shore for Rod to reach him- that is, when he arrived. The waiting was tense. After what seemed like forever, we saw our friend, without even a hat on, walking along the backyards of the homes that line the shore. Darzee was inching his way out of reach and we knew Rod hadn't seen the dinghy yet. He couldn't hear our shouts against the wind. We waved our arms and Rod finally spotted our wayward workhorse. Through the chop and rain, our rescuer brought little Darzee home. We are forever grateful and promise to never let it happen again, Rod. Thank you.
Not calm now... Rod rescued Darzee and returned him to us.
When the weather cleared enough for us to get out of Friday Harbor, we did just that. It is a great place- convenient access to everything a boater needs (except decent laundromats, more about that later) and the Washington State Ferry system. However, we've pretty much concluded, Friday Harbor is a wind-hole. Enough said.
February 6- a calm day to leave Friday Harbor.
Stopping at the fuel dock on our way out, a very pleasant couple hailed us from the wharf. They wanted to tell us how much they admired Rikki-tikki, so we invited them for a quick look-see. It turned out that Davey and Ziggy are circumnavigators, with wonderful stories we hope to hear when we meet them again. We are so glad they stopped to introduce themselves. Then we motored down through Cattle Pass and across the Strait of Juan de Fuca over relatively smooth seas, dodging the many logs and congealed islands of debris carried into the waters by the high tides and storm waves. The rain threatened but did not fall, we finally reached Point Wilson on a course for Mystery Bay. We carefully threaded our way through the complex winding entrance to Kilisut Harbor, between Indian Island and Marrowstone Island, spotting our first-ever long-tailed ducks- beautiful. A quiet night on anchor was a welcome change from the boisterous and busy days we spent in Friday Harbor.
Point Wilson.
The next morning, a very cold crosswind cut through our woolies as we rounded Marrowstone Point, but then it turned against us. The day was gray but the high clouds allowed a great view of the Olympic Mountains as we approached Port Ludlow, where Dave and Marcia on Juniata were holed up for the winter. We thought we might pay them a visit. It was February 7, 2006.
Our view of Hurricane Ridge as we head into south Admirality Inlet.
The condos at Burner Point, the entrance to Port Ludlow, the Olypmic mountain range in the background.
Dave and Marcia wait on the dock to take our lines at Port Ludlow Marina.
From their slip at Port Ludlow, Dave and Marcia enjoyed this view of the Olympic Mountains.
Yet another chapter begins in our life on the water aboard Rikki-tikki-tavi.
...
(Your patient indulgence for the belated nature of our journal entries is humbly requested.)
Clark & Nina
s/v Rikki-tikki-tavi
We awoke to this view of Mount Baker across San Juan Channel from Friday Harbor's North Cove. Late that afternoon, as we settled ourselves and Rikki-tikki alongside the little barge in Hong Kong Basin, we met the caretaker of the barge, Jim, a very reserved fellow. He is known in Friday Harbor as a creative- local art galleries sold his jewelry and very-much-in-demand, fantastically detailed miniature buildings built inside bottles. He even designed and built the special miniature tools that this kind of weensy construction required. Now he writes stories and articles from the confines of his little boat moored out in The Basin. We marvelled at the tales he had to tell of past experiences living in a myriad of boats- all very tiny- a canoe (would you believe?), a West Wight Potter, now an 18' powerboat named "Patna".
Our view of the Port of Friday Harbor from The Barge.
We had been to Friday Harbor once before- in the company of two other boats, four of us aboard a chartered Catalina 36 named "Norma Jean". It was 1995 or thereabouts, 4th of July, and we had a great time watching the local Independence Day parade featuring kids towing their dogs and smaller siblings in decorated wagons. There were brass bands, lots of waving flags, firetrucks demonstrating their water power. It was truly small-town America stuff. Hot dogs were on the grill and lawn games were played in the sunken park. The community egg toss was especially fun. Dozens of participants were defeated, impossibly and at long last, by a very small boy whose egg, despite hitting the grass many times, simply refused to break. At the end, his egg had to be broken by the judge to prove it wasn't hard boiled!
Our 2006 visit was cold, windy and gray most days, it being January, not July. The crowds of boats waiting to get a slip were absent, as were the lightly dressed sailors wearing sunhats. Friday Harbor residents had their town to themselves for the winter. We tried to blend in. It was our good furtune to have made the acquaintance of two locals while at Nanaimo's Newcastle Island back in August. Rod and Barbara live right off the main street around the corner from the big grocery and they wanted some advice on remodeling their home. They also desired our opinion on several homes that were under construction with the idea they would purchase one as a rental investment. Since building is Clark's area of expertise, they "hired" us to do some consulting. We enjoyed many hours of discussion, friendship and were given the opportunity to see a couple of very nice homes, plus a little of the island itself.
Washington State Ferries call several times a day, leaving a rolling wake with each passing.
We were invited to a Super Bowl Party. We don't enjoy football and neither does Rod, so we spent the time walking along country roads with our hostess and enjoying great conversation. We met several other sailor folks- our hosts were long-time SF Bay Area sailors and owned Bird Boat #18 for 25 years. They later owned and raced a Farallone Clipper, a classy classic wooden sailboat. We felt like newborns talking to Dan and Eileen about sailing. Their home on San Juan Island is cozy and filled with books, a lovingly built wood dinghy resides in the shop. The rooms feature a terrific view over Griffin Bay and San Juan Channel.
On one of the two days we had sun, Clark and I filled our rolling insulated bag at "The Marketplace".
In between our forays away from Rikki-tikki with new friends, we endured unpleasant weather, both while tied to The Barge and in the marina. We backed into two slips at the Port of Friday Harbor (they only charged us for one). Big winds were forecast and the minus tides would have set us into the mud in Hong Kong Basin, so we sought refuge of a sort tied to pilings and docks in deeper water. Sure enough, the winds reached 55 knots- that's 63 mph! The waves leaped all the way over the docks even inside the breakwater. When the winds ceased, we moved back to the barge and went back to rowing Darzee into the dinghy dock. It was cheaper.
Our double-wide "G Dock" slip in the Port of Friday Harbor.
Local color inside the Port docks.
The Port of Friday Harbor before the wind began.
Back on The Barge, another rainy windstorm blew in overnight. Clark got up in the morning, made coffee and sat down in the settee to enjoy it. He usually sits on the starboard side where we tie Darzee up between the vaka (the main hull) and the ama (the outer hull), using a three-point arrangement to keep him from banging into the hulls in the wind and waves. I arrived in the galley just in time for Clark to take a look outside to find that Darzee was gone! Darzee had taken a "walk", gone on an adventure of his own, without us. It was raining. The wind was blowing very hard. Lucky for us it was blowing toward the shore behind us. How did Darzee get loose? Unbeknownst to me, Clark had moved Darzee to the barge before we went to bed. Whatever knot he used, the waves had managed to untie.
I grabbed the binoculars and searched anxiously along the shoreline. The tide was extremely high and lots of flotsam was piled up against the land. There, among a bunch of large logs, bobbed our lost tender, but we had no way of getting over to him. We thought, no problem, the tide will go out and leave Darzee high and dry. We can have Rod go down to get him later. Just as we voiced our solution, the wind shifted completely around and Darzee started to float out away from shore. I started to get very worried and fetched my drysuit from the ama, intending to swim to shore and retrieve our little taxi before he was blown out into the channel. Clark nixed my swimming. I got out my new dock hook and posted myself on deck, just in case Darzee was close enough to snag on his way past. Meanwhile, we called (we still had our GoPhone!) and left voicemail for Rod- could he come rescue Darzee?
The morning before the storm that blew Darzee away. Nice and calm.
With every gust of wind, we crossed our fingers that the jetsam surrounding Darzee would hold him close enough to shore for Rod to reach him- that is, when he arrived. The waiting was tense. After what seemed like forever, we saw our friend, without even a hat on, walking along the backyards of the homes that line the shore. Darzee was inching his way out of reach and we knew Rod hadn't seen the dinghy yet. He couldn't hear our shouts against the wind. We waved our arms and Rod finally spotted our wayward workhorse. Through the chop and rain, our rescuer brought little Darzee home. We are forever grateful and promise to never let it happen again, Rod. Thank you.
Not calm now... Rod rescued Darzee and returned him to us.
When the weather cleared enough for us to get out of Friday Harbor, we did just that. It is a great place- convenient access to everything a boater needs (except decent laundromats, more about that later) and the Washington State Ferry system. However, we've pretty much concluded, Friday Harbor is a wind-hole. Enough said.
February 6- a calm day to leave Friday Harbor.
Stopping at the fuel dock on our way out, a very pleasant couple hailed us from the wharf. They wanted to tell us how much they admired Rikki-tikki, so we invited them for a quick look-see. It turned out that Davey and Ziggy are circumnavigators, with wonderful stories we hope to hear when we meet them again. We are so glad they stopped to introduce themselves. Then we motored down through Cattle Pass and across the Strait of Juan de Fuca over relatively smooth seas, dodging the many logs and congealed islands of debris carried into the waters by the high tides and storm waves. The rain threatened but did not fall, we finally reached Point Wilson on a course for Mystery Bay. We carefully threaded our way through the complex winding entrance to Kilisut Harbor, between Indian Island and Marrowstone Island, spotting our first-ever long-tailed ducks- beautiful. A quiet night on anchor was a welcome change from the boisterous and busy days we spent in Friday Harbor.
Point Wilson.
The next morning, a very cold crosswind cut through our woolies as we rounded Marrowstone Point, but then it turned against us. The day was gray but the high clouds allowed a great view of the Olympic Mountains as we approached Port Ludlow, where Dave and Marcia on Juniata were holed up for the winter. We thought we might pay them a visit. It was February 7, 2006.
Our view of Hurricane Ridge as we head into south Admirality Inlet.
The condos at Burner Point, the entrance to Port Ludlow, the Olypmic mountain range in the background.
Dave and Marcia wait on the dock to take our lines at Port Ludlow Marina.
From their slip at Port Ludlow, Dave and Marcia enjoyed this view of the Olympic Mountains.
Yet another chapter begins in our life on the water aboard Rikki-tikki-tavi.
...
(Your patient indulgence for the belated nature of our journal entries is humbly requested.)
Clark & Nina
s/v Rikki-tikki-tavi
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