That's a wrap

It's not warm here in Port Madison this morning. In fact, at 11:00 the temperature outside has just barely managed to climb above 50° F.

All good things must come to an end; Seattle's most amazing Endless Summer is no exception.  I think we have reached it: The End.  We have had the Dickenson running ever since I got up this morning and the temperature here in the cabin is 68°, so we are comfortable.  The NOAA marine forecast is telling us that we should dock tomorrow (and as always, at slack water, which occurs at 11:37 and 17:32 - we'll take the 11:37 one):

PZZ135-260100-
PUGET SOUND AND HOOD CANAL-
900 AM PDT WED SEP 25 2013

TODAY...N WIND 5 TO 15 KT. WIND WAVES 2 FT OR LESS. PATCHY FOG IN THE MORNING. SCATTERED SHOWERS IN THE MORNING. TONIGHT...N WIND 5 TO 15 KT...BECOMING S AFTER MIDNIGHT. WIND WAVES 2 FT OR LESS. AREAS OF FOG AFTER MIDNIGHT.
THU...S WIND TO 10 KT. WIND WAVES 1 FT OR LESS. AREAS OF FOG IN THE MORNING.
THU NIGHT...LIGHT WIND...BECOMING S 10 KT AFTER MIDNIGHT. WIND WAVES 1 FT OR LESS.
FRI...S WIND 10 TO 20 KT...RISING TO 15 TO 25 KT IN THE AFTERNOON. WIND WAVES 1 TO 4 FT.
FRI NIGHT...S WIND 15 TO 25 KT. WIND WAVES 2 TO 4 FT.
SAT...S WIND 5 TO 15 KT. WIND WAVES 2 FT OR LESS.
SUN...S WIND 15 TO 25 KT. WIND WAVES 2 TO 4 FT.

(After all, no one wants to try to dock in 25 kt if it can be avoided...)

I still have to change out the propnut zinc, and Thursday afternoon's weather looks like it is as good as it will get for that task, for the rest of the year.

I have a bittersweet feeling.  It is the end.  But at the same time I am full of the memories of the most wonderful summer ever.  We are out here trying to eke out just one more day, but at the same time, the subconscious nesting impulses are getting nearly irresistible - for us that means that we need to button the boat up for the winter, to get the extra fenders out for the coming winter storms.

I think I am ready.

That's a wrap

I may have GDD*

Can there be too much of a good thing?

This weekend we anchored in Port Madison, off the dock for the first time in weeks.  And I relaxed.  I mean I completely RELAXED.   I was so relaxed that I may actually have left the animal kingdom and become some kind of plant. 

Is this good?  

Once in a while I think it is. But I was so far gone that it was quite difficult for me to gather together enough energy (gumption?) even for the ten-minute job of greasing the heads.  I spent uncounted hours lazing in the cockpit, feeling the boat gliding slowly around the anchor and gazing at the water, the shoreline, the birds, the seals.  The insides of my eyelids. 

So what is this "energy", this "gumption"?  Is another word for this curiously slippery substance "ambition"?  Where does it one from?  How is it destroyed by the heat of a summer afternoon?  Can you get more of it with a proper diet?  Do certain strangely named supplements help your body to manufacture it? 

Investigators have found ^{[citation needed]} that subjects with low levels of gumption seem to have correspondingly elevated levels of a substance identified as β-lethargen. Is β-lethargen a gumption antagonist?  Or does it act independently to reduce the will to act? Is there a deeper homeostatic mechanism that is regulating both of these?  More research is needed. 

Next weekend.

---

*GDD: Gumption Deficit Disorder

I may have GDD*

More than a month without a saltwater fix

June 28.

That was the date we returned to the dock from our previous little cruise.  And now it is August 16^th.

Those intervening weeks were filled with travel, a family reunion, a wedding, and the Dude Drive - all wonderful fun and very fulfilling.  But no saltwater.

Ah, but this morning we woke up at anchor in Port Madison - woke up to the smell of the sea, absolute calm, and a fuzzy layer of fog that filtered in and out as I sat in the cockpit, drinking my Coast Guard-required latte.

It is so good to be home.

More than a month without a saltwater fix

That magical time

Here in Seattle it has rained for the last five days.   And yes, we are accustomed to this.   Everyone makes fun of us having 20 different words for 'rain'. 

But the next few days are going to be a magical time.  The temps are forecasted to be in the 80's - we expect to be sunny and warm.

Tonite, here at anchor in Port Madison, we are treated to a harbinger.  Late in the evening, the clouds parted and the sun peeked out underneath them, illuminating the world with a magical, golden light.  And here at the far western end of the timezone, so far north that we are within shouting distance of Canada, and within a few days of the summer solstice, it is still light enough to read outside at 10 PM.

Life is good, and it is only going to get better!

Port Madison, 9:45 PM

That magical time

Cozy

Raining at anchor in Port Madison

When you live aboard, you live aboard in the sunshine, and you live aboard in the rain.  It isn't all sundowners in the cockpit in the cooling evening after a warm day, although it sure has been that way here in Seattle for the last couple of weeks.

Back to normal

Seattle weather has regained its senses.  And all the plants out there, burgeoning away greenly, are thankful.  It's been a long time since they got a drink.

For us, out here at anchor?  It's a time of coziness, corn bread and reading.

And the rain has washed the salt from the windows.

Cozy

You know it was a good sail if...

Windows frosted with salt

Frosted old salt

With the wonderfully warm weather forecast, we got off the dock as soon as we could Thursday evening, heading across the Sound towards Port Madison on a close reach in 15 kt.  We were so glad to be out on the water!  In fact, we kind of prolonged the journey by raising only the mainsail - with this rig we made less than 4 kt, and that was perfect for our laid back attitude Thursday evening.  And adding to our joy, we had the privilege of being escorted most of the way across by a pod of dolphins!  Could it have been more perfect?  Well maybe it could have been a touch warmer.  Regardless of the air temperature, the water is still 51°, and the air blowing across it takes on that temperature close to the water's surface...  where we are.

Port Madison sunset

Putting the anchor down in Port Madison felt like returning home after a long trip.  Wonderful!  We grilled some cheeseburgers out on the stern for dinner - cheeseburgers have truly never tasted better.

Friday morning we left at 10:00 to make the tide in Agate Pass.  It was pretty gusty inside Port Madison, but when we got outside we were met with 30+ kt right on the nose!  Looking out on the Sound, as best we could tell, this wind was localized where we were.  I have come to believe that the configuration of the land at Indianola acts as a funnel that concentrates the wind - this isn't the first time we seen unusually strong and localized winds here.

Once we were in Agate Pass there was essentially no wind, so we continued with the engine.  In fact, we really didn't see any wind to speak of until we reached Liberty Bay.  There of course, with the large open area, we were seeing 15-25 kt.  This is enough to keep us swinging around on the anchor, so we put the anchor down kind of in the lee of the breakwater for the Poulsbo Marina.  It helped, in fact we were quite comfortable.

After a leisurely lunch, I put the dinghy into the water and we headed into town to one of our traditional Poulsbo haunts: the Valhöll brewery.  They have moved to new digs, and very nice they are!   The new facility is Viking-themed and has a great view of Liberty Bay (we could see Eolian while sipping!).  It is located just up the hill from Tizley's, kind of behind the new grandiose (well, maybe not for a town of 100,000... but Poulsbo?) City Hall.  Jeff has also substantially enlarged his brewing capacity and is now branching out...  keep an eye open for one of Valhöll's great brews in a store or taproom near you!

I blame the blurriness on the camera

In the evening, we spotted s/v Ghost coming thru the narrow little hole-in-the-wall at Keyport.  It was great to see Scott and Angela out on the water again after last year's troubles with their prop shaft.  We dinghied over to share a congratulatory glass of wine with them in the evening.

Saturday morning we dinghied into town once more, this time for another ritual:  breakfast at Tizley's.  Tizley's is a European-style second story restaurant with seating available on a narrow little balcony outside over the sidewalk.  In nice weather (and yes, it continues...), it's a lovely place to dine.  But the thing that keeps us coming back is their famous Bloody Marys.  This time they even came with bacon!  All the important food groups represented in one glass!

Then some walking around to the marine consignment store and some of the art galleries, and then back out to Eolian.

About lunchtime, we pulled the anchor (The mud in Liberty Bay is just amazing!  Because of a failed washdown hose, we ended up with mud all over everything in the forward quarter of the boat...) and sailed over to Manzanita Bay and anchored for a quiet, warm evening.  We were anchored quite a bit further back in the cove than usual, and as a result got an occasional whiff of hay and horses coming in from the land.  It was another wonderful warm evening!

Next morning (Sunday, if you're keeping track... we weren't), we hoisted anchor early so that we could ride the tide thru Agate Pass and back to Port Madison.  We spent the entire day there, lazing about and eventually trying to keep cool!  In Seattle!  In May!  On our evening wine cruise, we met a young man who had just acquired an Islander 37 pilothouse - I'd never seen one of these and Jane and I were debating what it was.  He had just gotten it to Port Madison from Lake Union in what was apparently quite an ordeal - the boat is named Chaos, appropriately enough.  He spent the day tearing out a lot of hacked interior joinery.  "Not appropriate for a boat," he said.  All I know for sure is that in the evening he left with an amazing load of scrap wood on his dinghy.

Heading for Seattle in the morning sunshine

Finally, on Monday morning, early, we left Port Madison to return to Seattle.  It was so warm at 08:00 that all I had on was an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and a pair of shorts. Our early summer continues!

One measure boaters use to measure the success of a voyage is by what broke.  For us, the washdown hose was it, so I'd have to call this a successful trip!

You know it was a good sail if...

Anticipation

Fuel tank repaired?  Check.

Oil changed?  Check.

Battery water topped off?  Check

Anchor windlass tested?  Check.

Engine zincs changed?  Check.

Prop nut zinc changed?  Check.

Batteries reinstalled? Check.

Weather?  Oh my...

82°?  Holy cow!

We are going off the dock for the first time this year on Thursday nite or Friday morning, depending on when provisioning for 4 days or so is complete.  This is when the work pays off...

Oh yeah.

Anticipation

Longing

It was grey, with lowering clouds this morning when Jane and I walked down the ramp to G Dock.  But it was one of those rare times in this season when there was no wind and Puget Sound was calm.  There was some light mist in the air from those low clouds, adding depth to the view across the Sound.  The sandy hook at Point Monroe was visible - it was a picture in shades of grey.

And we both agreed that it would be absolutely wonderful to be resting at anchor in Port Madison this afternoon.  And then we were both silent as we walked the 1000 feet out to Eolian, absorbed in our imaginations.

It was a compelling vision.

Longing

Sunset moment

Last night here in Seattle was a spectacular summer evening, complete with a glorious sunset. Several of my Facebook friends posted pictures, taken at slightly different times and from different vantage points. It was an interesting impromptu and unorganized study. This panorama was our contribution, taken from Port Madison, later in the twilight. (As always, you can click on pictures to see the full-sized versions.)

And in keeping with the astronomical nature of this post, several sources are telling me that we could have an auroral display that reaches into the middle tier of states on the nights of the 14th and 15th. Might be a good time to stay up late...

Sunset moment

Double anchor, double kudos

Friday, Sept 16 and Saturday Sept 17
(delayed due to sparse internet connectivity in the South Sound)

On an out-and-back trip, one of the problems is that the return trip can be kind of anti-climatic.  As soon as you turn around, you are in territory you covered only a little while ago, and there is a mixture of the beginnings of nostalgia and the undeniable draw of home.  We try to minimize this by stopping in alternate places where possible.  But portions of the trip are inevitably repeats.  Nevertheless, with the wind as propulsion, it is unlikely that both the outbound and inbound legs will be identical. 

We rose early again (rats!) and motored out of Filucy Bay ("wind as propulsion"?  not on this leg), heading for Gig Harbor once again.  It was a strangely uneventful trip...  We only saw three other boats in the entire distance:  the strange part was that these were three Canadian military vessels (#60, #61, #62).  We met them as they traversed Balch Passage, and we speculated that perhaps Olympia was about to be invaded by Canada.

A view of the Tacoma Narrows
bridges that most will never see

Passing under the (now dual!) span of the Tacoma Narrows bridge is always a rush - literally a rush if you do it properly, with the tide. 

We moved to the back of the harbor in Gig Harbor once again, in about the same place we had been a few days prior.  Tho the depth shown on the chart was a uniform 23 feet, as we drifted back and forth on the anchor, we occasionally saw depths of 14 feet.  I joked that perhaps there was a wreck down there.

It was a pretty evening and nite, and I experimented again with long-exposure pictures.  Normally I would have discarded this one, but something in the colors and shapes interested me, in an abstract sort of way.

Next morning: final, or final but one leg.  The wind forecast for Monday was for 20-25 kt at Shilshole, and I didn't really want to dock in that much wind.  So we hoped to use Sunday's 10-15 kt southerlies as travelling wind and get tied to the dock ahead of the big blow.

The first setback occurred as we hoisted anchor.  I was down in the bow, flaking the chain as it came aboard as usual.  I noticed that the windless seemed to be running unusually slow...  and then Jane called me up topside.  Uh oh.  There really was something down there.  Tho I can't say for certain if there was a wreck, there was certainly an abandoned old-fashioned anchor and its rode.  Kudos to our windless for being able to hoist this mess up to the surface where it could be dealt with!

The time-honored way to clean up this situation is to pass a line under the offending object, securing both ends on deck.  Then you lower your anchor, away from the now-suspended object.  In the picture I have started reeving the line.  The procedure worked for us (the second time we have had to do it), and the old anchor is back on the bottom of Gig Harbor.  It would have made a really neat souvenir, except that we really had no way to carry a very heavy and very rust-corroded object.  If anyone is interested, I can forward approximate coordinates - it would be good to get it out of the harbor.

We motored most of the way up Colvos Passage, with the current at our back.  Near the north end, the beginnings of a travelling wind appeared and we unrolled the yankee for a downwind run to Shilshole.

Unfortunately, by the time we reached West Point, we were seeing 20+ kt at our backs while making 7+ kts.  We briefly discussed running off to Port Madison and anchoring to wait it out.  But the forecast was for more (perhaps much more) of the same.  West Point partially shelters the Marina and the breakwater adds some protection.  We decided to explore and see how bad it was right at our slip - with the option to bail and head to Port Madison if it was bad.  Jane called Angela on the phone, and she rallied up a crew on the dock.

Things seemed tenable as I turned into the waterway, and so I committed to docking.  All went well until the boat was halfway into the slip.  Then a BIG gust hit us broadside, slamming us into the corner of the finger.  Kudos to Angela and our good friends and neighbors for saving us!  We already had one line ashore at that point - that meant that the bow could be kept under control; the rest of the crew fended off and took the other three lines.  No damage, thanks to all the help!

Tied to a dock again, for the first time since Sept 9... and the beer never tasted so good!

Double anchor, double kudos

Another iPhone app you need

A while back, we were in a position that required us to traverse Puget Sound from Port Madison to Shilshole in heavy fog.  (Now, I guess I should examine that word "required" more closely, but that's a story for another time).

Puget Sound has a lot of shipping traffic, and an active and professionally run VTS system.  And we have radar on Eolian.  So I was not particularly worried...  focused and intense, yes, but not really worried.

As we started across, I notified VTS giving our speed and that we were going to be crossing the lanes.  They, in turn notified us of shipping in the area.  It looked good for us - a northbound freighter would be past us before we got to the northbound side of the Sound, and a southbound freighter would pass behind us as we entered the northbound lanes.

But just for grins, I fired up my iPhone and ran the "Ship Finder" AIS app.  This app does not actually have a receiver in it - it takes advantage of information on the Internet somehow (don't ask me how it works).  Sure enough, there were our two freighters, with their courses and speed vectors shown.  And their names.

About the time we entered the separation zone (the "median" between the traffic lanes, if you will), a problem developed.  We heard Manolo (the southbound freighter) complaining of a whole bunch of fishing boats out in the traffic lanes a couple of miles to the north of us, and then he said that he might have to veer into the northbound lanes to clear them.

I watched as Manolo's vector on the AIS display swung until it pointed right at us!  Crap.  The AIS app showed we were clearly now on a collision course, and given our relative speeds, it was going to be difficult for us to get out of his way on any course.  So I contacted Manolo directly on VHF-13, and told him of our predicament, and advised that we were making a 180 degree turn and heading back west toward the southbound lanes (on what would be a collision course if had stayed in the southbound lanes) to try to get out of his path; he acknowledged.

Now came a period of tense waiting, completely blind in the fog.

Eventually, Manolo contacted us and advised that he was past the offending fishing boats and was returning to the southbound lane; I acknowledged and returned to our eastbound course. 

In the fog, we never saw Manolo.

Oh sure, he was visible on the radar display, but that display does not show course or speed, only relative position.  It was the AIS that made obvious what was happening.  If you already have an AIS receiver onboard, you already know this.  But if you don't, then I strongly recommend you get the Ship Finder app (there's a free version - that's what I have).

Another iPhone app you need

Demo ride

Never been on a large sailboat?

Ever wonder what it might be like?

Here's a short video I shot near sunset last Thursday from the bowsprit, looking back over Eolian as we sliced across Puget Sound at 6.5 kt under ideal conditions, making our way to Port Madison.

Sailing this way makes the perfect day for me - excitement for a while, followed by serene time at anchor...  the perfect mix, and a guaranteed solid nite's sleep.

Now imagine sitting in the cockpit at sunrise with a warm latte, watching the birds and the seals play.  Yeah, it *is* that good.

Want to try it?

Demo ride

Say cheese

Quick - what's one of the last things you would expect to hear me say we did on the boat last nite?

You said, "Make cheese", didn't you?

I love cheese.

Let me say that again:  I love cheese.

So the combined Father's Day/Jane's b'day present that Adam and Kaci gave us was a perfect fit - tuition at a cheese-making class.

The class we attended was the first in a two-part curriculum, and dealt with fresh cheeses: ricotta, mozzarella, mascarpone and chevre.  Bonny, our instructor, an Italian woman and stand-up comic, grew up in a family that made cheese as a regular part of life.  In fact, I was amazed to hear that for them, making ricotta or mozzarella was just a part of normal meal preparation!

Oh my gosh!  What I have been missing!

In the 3-hour class, Bonny took us thru the making of all four cheeses I mentioned above...  and by that I mean that we (hands-on) made these cheeses, and then at the end of the class we ate them.

So last nite, we put our training to the test:  we made ricotta.  Yes, you can do it on a boat - here's proof: cheese making at anchor in Port Madison. (See Bonny?  I told you we would do this!)

And here's the result:  yummy whole-milk ricotta.  We had this with blueberries over it, and a glass of wine of course. 

Now I ask you:  Can you think of a better dessert than fresh ricotta with fruit and a glass of wine, at anchor in a beautiful, protected little harbor?

No, I didn't think so.

Say cheese

Four days of vagabonding: Day 3-4

After four days and several grazing encounters with crowds, we found tranquility at last, in Port Madison once again. This is a picture of my Port Madison state of mind.

Four days of vagabonding: Day 3-4

Four days of vagabonding: Day 2-3

With Liberty Bay filling up, it was time for us to escape. We hoisted anchor and threaded the needle at Keyport and then over to Manzanita Bay on the West side of Bainbridge Island.

The plan was a good one. When we arrived, there were only a few boats at anchor and we were able to choose a good spot. With the anchor down, we settled in for a perfectly relaxing day at anchor: reading, guitar, and watching the other boats coming in.  And there were a lot of them.  Enough so that we began to doubt the plan, actually. But then we realized that if it was getting crowded here, it could only be worse over in Poulsbo.

Over night there was rain, and this morning it is cloudy and much cooler. Jane observed that this temperature downturn probably will have the effect of holding down the consumption of cold, refreshing adult beverages - a good thing for Liberty Bay given the crowding.

In a little while, after breakfast of course, we will hoist anchor and head thru Agate Pass again on our way back to Port Madison. The wind has turned to the South and is plenty sting enough, so we will make this passage under sail.

Four days of vagabonding: Day 2-3

Four days of vagabonding: Day 1-2

META: Well now that was interesting.  The profound difficulties of typing on an iPhone keypad changed my writing style!  Looking back at yesterday's post, I see short sentences (where normally I have to carefully guard against overly-complex, parenthesized, run-on sentences, like this one) and a seeming majority of words with only one syllable.  This morning, while Jane has her weekly two-hour telephone conversation with her mother (who is, incidentally, 97 years young), I am typing on the computer because we have an internet connection here in Poulsbo.

Picking up where I left off on Vagabonding Day 1 (Friday): Following the consumption of our morning lattes and enjoying the peaceful morning in Port Madison, Jane rigged our new crab ring (Deluxe! Glow-in-the-dark harness!) and put it over the side - July 1 is the first day of crabbing season here. Within an hour or so, we had lunch: steamed crab and drawn butter. YUM! While I was cleaning the crabs, I took some pictures of the process because my little three-part series on crabs did not provide detailed enough information on just how to do that. Look for an upcoming addendum to the "Crab" series.

Following the leisurely lunch, when the tide had turned and would be with us going thru Agate Pass, we hoisted anchor and headed out. The warm, calm weather continued, so we traveled using the motor. By 14:45 we were anchored in Liberty Bay, in front of Poulsbo, relaxing and reading in the warm sunshine.

And the Bay was already filling up. Once we were settled, we watched a steady stream of boats enter the Bay and put down anchors, including s/v Ambition, who share our slip with us. We hailed them and set up to meet at the Hare and Hounds for a pub dinner.

We put the dinghy down and went into town. And then here came s/v Ghost, from across the dock! Scott grabbed this picture as we idled along side of Ghost, welcoming them as they entered the anchorage. He even managed to get Eolian in the picture!

There was only enough time to browse the used book store (must remember: bring chocolate for the proprietress!) before it was time to walk to the pub. After a great dinner sitting outside on the roof with Brent and Jill, sampling many beers, it was starting to cool off - my Hawaiian shirt was beginning to feel a little thin. So we stopped at Eolian and grabbed flannel shirts and fleece and a couple of glasses of wine to take over to Ghost as a sundowner. One common topic of conversation among anchored boaters is how close others have anchored. and with the continuing stream of boats entering the bay, we had no shortage of opportunities to discuss this. Two boats had anchored between Eolian and Ghost, where one perhaps would have been appropriate. I know I didn't sleep well, wondering what the boats would do at slack water when there is nothing to keep their anchor chains stretched out going in the same direction. Needless worry, it turns out. There were no bumps in the night.

This morning is one of those warm summer mornings that we all want. It is warm - all the hatches and ports on Eolian are open - and it is calm. It is gorgeous! And the bay is even fuller. Two large circle raft-ups are forming. (For those of you not familiar with this, perhaps 30 large boats will tie up together with their sterns in, forming a large circle. I am sure these are fun, but they are not for us. And they are noisy to be anchored near.) Later today we will leave Liberty Bay and go across to Manzanita Bay on the back side of Bainbridge Island where we expect to find peace and solitude.

Back to typing on the iPhone tomorrow.

Four days of vagabonding: Day 1-2

Four days of vagabonding: Day 0-1

(This is an experiment. I am going to do all four days blogging on my iPhone, typing on its the tiny keypad)

Thursday
When I got home from work, Jane had the boat ready to go. We left immediately. Since it was pretty late, we needed to be destination-oriented (a curse, I know). The wind was out of the NW and strong at 20+ kt, so pure sailing was not in the cards. Instead, we motor-sailed under a reefed main, almost directly into the wind, and anchored in Port Madison. We had a dinner of BBQ beef and corn on the cob, read for a while, and went to bed.

Friday
Sleeping at anchor is so peaceful. It is absolutely silent, and the gentle motion of the boat lulls you into the deepest sleep you'll ever have.

I awoke this morning with sunlight streaming thru the hatch above our berth. I think there is scarcely a better way to be awakened. It is warm in the cabin, 60 degrees, and comfortable sitting outside here in the cockpit, where I am picking this out with a single finger.

It is now 07:15, and boats are beginning to move, trailing silvery ribbons of wake behind. They are heading to what will be a huge gathering in Liberty Bay at Poulsbo. You see, in order to avoid competition with Seattle, Poulsbo does their July 4th fireworks on July 3rd. And tho we are also going to Poulsbo, I intend to be out of there before Sunday evening - all the crowding and craziness is not appealing.

And now I must go make Jane a latte. Each of us has his/her alarm clock - mine was sunlight; Jane's is the rushing sound of the steaming milk. And then the day will begin.

Four days of vagabonding: Day 0-1

Chilly this morning

It's cool and kind of misty this morning over here in Port Madison. The eagles have been busy fishing, and now they are just taking turns in the nest - probably babysitting.

We had a spectacular sail over yesterday evening - a close reach in 15 knots apparent wind, right in Eolian's sweet spot. At times we exceeded 8 knots on almost flat water.

Sleeping at anchor is so peaceful.

Chilly this morning

Beautiful, relaxing day

Prudence.

Our original plans to circumnavigate Bainbridge Island clockwise did not work, given the circumstances. When plans and circumstances collide, the prudent mariner revises the plan.  And so we did.

The wind forecast had a South wind yesterday,  North wind this afternoon, and a South wind again tomorrow and Monday.  So we sailed to Port Madison yesterday in a beam to broad reach, and today we sailed South to Eagle Harbor under another broad reach.  When your plans match the wind, the going is easy and relaxing indeed, today being the perfect example. 

Now we are peacefully at anchor out in front of the Harbor House, and I am about to go grill a steak.  In the sun. 

Does it get any better than this?

Well, yes.  Kaci and Adam will  join us tomorrow afternoon.  And the temperature is forecast to reach as high as (hold your breath) normal!  Yes it is possible we will reach 68°!

That will be better.

Beautiful, relaxing day

Honey, I'm home...

Our plan for the holiday weekend has changed. First, Kaci and Adam will now join us on Sunday afternoon, and then Jane was not feeling well and the weather was, well, not optimal. So we delayed leaving the dock until 15:30.

Next, the wind was out of the South, making a trip South difficult. So we took the path of least resistance - and we are home at anchor in Port Madison. Tomorrow? Who knows.

Honey, I'm home...

Honey, I'm home...