I could get used to the lifestyle of a boater. Owning a boat and cruising on the water means trading human schedules for the more laid-back rhythms of nature. Days are measured by tides, sunrises, water currents and wind instead of clocks. It offers quiet anchorages, endless horizons, and a deep sense of freedom.
In the photo above, anchored in idyllic, sun-kissed Roche Harbor on the upper deck of my brother-law Kent’s 35-foot trawler, we had just devoured a meal of barbecued steaks, rice and salad. Then we piled into the dingy and motored into Roche Harbor Resort for some ice cream, a little window-shopping and a lot of gawking at multi-million-dollar super yachts parked at the dock.
In the end, however, I would be a poor boater. I would be the one who would do something stupid, similar to what we heard on the marine scanner a night earlier while moored at Hope Island. A boat had run aground near the mouth of the La Conner Channel. Kent had warned us beforehand that the entrance to La Conner and the Swinomish Channel was dangerously shallow at low tide. The boater placed a distress call to the Coast Guard, asking for a tow. I hope he had good insurance.
Fortunately, we leave the boat driving – at least the high-level navigation portions – to our trusty captain Kent. Bob Swenson and I are merely deckhands. We follow Kent’s orders – or try to anyway – whether it be securing mooring lines or deploying fenders the moment the captain gives the orders to dock.
This was our “second annual” boat trip. Last August, we cruised central Puget Sound, with visits to Blake Island and Poulsbo. This time, we ventured north, all the way to the upper reaches of the San Juan Islands. To reach our destination of Roche Harbor on Day 2, it meant a 9 1/2-hour trip to Hope Island near La Conner. That put us in a good spot to navigate Deception Pass by 9 a.m. the next morning at “slack tide,” a brief period before the tidal current changes direction from incoming to outgoing.
Nevertheless, “passing” Deception Pass would be a harrowing experience, largely due to blinding fog and five-foot swells that threatened to swamp our boat. Kent did well to steer our boat with the aid of sonar to the shelter of Bowman’s Bay, where we hung out for a couple hours while waiting for the fog to lift.
From there, we crossed Rosario Strait to Lopez Island, and past Center, Decatur, Blakely, Shaw and Orcas islands, and finally San Juan Island and Roche Harbor. I must say the San Juan Islands are magical this time of year. I am thankful I could take part, as there was a time during my recovery from kidney cancer surgery where the prospects looked bleak.
Below is a map of our boat trip. Hope you enjoy the photos.
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