Leprechauns and Rainbows

San Juan Islands  - Scene One

Have you ever entered your name into a contest and thought, "Why do I bother entering, I never win?" That's exactly how the conversation in my head went as I wrote my name on that little slip of paper. It was the middle of the winter and we decided to take a trip to Portland to check out the Boat Show. Little did we know what would come of our visit.  

We spent a few hours wandering around the show talking with anchor manufacturers, sailing clubs, drooling over quarter million dollar sailboats, and entering contests.  Apparently, Adrienne is the lucky one in the mix. Two weeks after visiting the show, she was contacted with the news that she won a three hour ride on a sail boat- WOO HOO!  The skipper whose boat we were assigned to advised us that it would be better to sail sometime closer to summer.  

Summer rolled around and through a series of emails, things turned a little Gilligan's Island on us. Much to our own doing, what was supposed to be a three hour tour in the Portland area turned into a three day tour of the San Juan Islands, with someone we had never met. Now, we're pretty easy to get along with, but there is always that chance that the person you just agreed to spend three days with in a space not much bigger than most people's living rooms, could turn out to be an ax murder. Not to fear, we had a plan B. We made the agreement that if either us or the skipper couldn't stand each other we would head right back to shore and go our separate ways. The down side to plan B was, depending where we were at the time it could take 5 hours or more to get back.

Arrangements were made and menus were planned as we set a date to meet the skipper and his lovely boat named Shamrock, a Yankee 30 (see her specs here), in a port just south of the Canadian border.

The weather forecast for the three days we had picked was looking a little soggy and on top of that there was a small craft advisory. This advisory is given when winds have reached, or are expected to reach within twelve hours, a speed marginally less than gale force.  This is some where around thirty knots, or for those of us on land, thirty five miles per hour. The skipper had put Adrienne in charge of wind and the weather and at this point it was looking like we were going to just get the wind and not the sun. "Perfect for sailing, the more wind the merrier." I thought.  

Meeting up with the skipper at the dock, we talked for a bit, he showed us around Shamrock and then left us alone to get better acquainted with her.  When he returned, we had all our gear and food stowed below in the cabin of the boat and we were ready to shove off. Freeing Shamrock from her dock, we motored out of the harbor, into the salty bay, and set sail.

Once the wind took hold of our sails, Shamrock heeled over and we took off across the  bay. I stayed up on the foredeck until repeated soakings from waves coming over the bow sent me back to the cockpit. Adrienne was on the helm and seemed to really be enjoying the power that the sails harnessed. The winds were pushing up in the mid-twenty knot range and we were going about as fast as the boat would go. We estimated it would take about five hours to get to our first stop a little island in the northern end of the San Juan Islands. 

 After and hour or so we reached the edge of the bay where we headed north through a straight. The southerly wind was at our back pushing us a healthy seven knots. Along with the wind there was squall that was chasing right behind us, threatening to bring rain along with the wind.  This combination produced some gorgeous panoramic views. With sunny areas to the north east, scattered clouds to the west and ominous dark skies behind us to the south.  It was a mixed bag and we weren't sure what would be in store for us.  

Arriving at the northern end of the straight, we crossed over to the west and headed out into less sheltered waters. The wind was still blowing twenty five knots from the south. But no longer was the wind pushing us from behind, it was blowing directly on the side of the boat. With the wind persisting in these less protected waters, the wave heights had reached three to four feet and were now hitting us from the side. This is where I saw my first Puffin- yes, you heard me right. I didn't even know there were puffins here. Yet, there it was floating on those four foot ocean waves like it was perfectly at home.  

If the winds kept up as they were, within an hour we would arrive at the island where we were to stay the first night.

~J~