Port Orchard to Blake Island

Despite forecasts of rain and thunderstorms for the weekend of October 1 and 2, 2005, Frank Coletta in Harry P (P19 #346) and I in Whisper (P19 #1555) ventured forth from Port Orchard through Rich Passage for an overnight trip to Blake Island. We returned with well-washed sails.

We did encounter some rain. And I mean r a i n with drops the size of grapes, pounding down on a sizzling sea. Following that came thunder and hail. The good news? Our sails got a good rinsing in pure Pacific Northwe(s)t rainwater and we got to test the integrity of our raingear. Even with the unsettled weather, we enjoyed some great sailing.

The two Potter 19′s sailing in tandem garnered many a look from ferry passengers and other boats.

There Really is a Free Launch in Port Orchard

Frank and I launched about 10 a.m. on Saturday morning from the Port Orchard boat launch, a two-lane affair with a long float. There’s a reason the float is long — at low tide, water depth at the end of the float looks to be about four or five feet deep! The northern ramp has a few chunks of concrete missing but that did not interfere with launching our Potters. The parking lot is located across the street from City Hall and the police department. The launch is free, and the first 24 hours of parking is free. In practice, if you launch on Saturday and retrieve on Sunday, parking is free. I confirmed this at the harbormaster’s office before we launched. Of course, it’s always a good idea to confirm this for yourself!

Through Rich Passage Against a Flood Tide

Soon after raising sail and ghosting away from the Port Orchard launch and marina toward Rich Passage, the slack tide turned and the flood current began to catch us in an inexorable grip, rendering forward passage a slow slog against light headwinds. But we had some sun breaks and I’m sure we were both thinking how lucky we were to have rolled the dice on the weather (more on that coming up). Both iron horses fired with little coaxing, and toward Rich Passage we cruised.

Power Boats on Programmed Courses

Most momentous for me was looking over my shoulder as I passed the Point Glover turn (green #9) to see a 30-something power yacht throwing a big bow wave and bearing straight for Whisper’s stern. The power boat was so close I could barely see the pilot’s smoked windows over the crest of her bow. I could not tell if the other boat even knew I was directly in her path. Evasive action was called for, but the speed differential meant if both of us swerved in the same direction, we might have a close encounter of a most unfortunate kind. I chose to take advantage of a Potter feature — shoal draft — and turned toward shallower water, gambling that the bigger boat would choose to head for deeper water…and that is exactly what happened.

A few minutes later, another power boat did exactly the same thing. In retrospect, after seeing a few dozen of these boats following some kind of circuit, it appears Frank and I managed to transit Rich Passage during the middle of a predicted log race. I am guessing that the two close calls I had were the result of GPS-programmed turning points with autopilots engaged, compounded by either inattention at the helm or an assumption that I, as a smaller vessel being overtaken, would move.

And move I did, employing the floating version of the lug nut rule. Haven’t heard of that one? The vehicle with the most lug nuts wins, no matter who may have the right of way. These were big boats. I got out of the way.

A service provided to the boating public by the Port of Bremerton is a listing of GPS waypoints through Rich Passage, available at http://port.superwebgirl.com/default.asp?ID=27.

Blake Island Marina

Frank and I tacked around the north end of Blake Island, passing several state park mooring buoys, and poked our noses into the marina. Finding it crowded with a power squadron regatta, we quietly withdrew and headed for the west side of Blake Island.

The Faucet Turns On

As we sailed westward around the north end of Blake Island, black clouds started rolling in. Yes, this is the “more on that coming up” part. Soon we heard peals of thunder rolling across the water, and an energetic rain pelted our boats. Looking over my should I could barely see the Seattle skyline through the pounding rain and mist. Both of us were able to test our foul weather gear for leaks. For a little while, the rain came down in such splendor that the water sizzled with a sound like bacon frying. A few minutes of hail accompanied by thunderous exclamation points followed.

Less than 45 minutes later we were both tied to the linear moorage on the west side of Blake Island and warming up with hot buttered rum. The rain squall passed and we had a marvelous evening on the beach visiting with several of Frank’s friends who had cruised to the island from Tacoma.

Glorious Sailing…and Drizzle

Sunday dawned gray, with clouds having that “I’m gonna drizzle on you all day” look. On with the foulies and up with the sails. With a light wind out of the southeast, I was able to sail right off the linear moorage with just the genoa. I didn’t start the motor until just before landing at the Port Orchard launch. The Blake Island to Port Orchard leg was the best sailing of the trip. Several sea lions resting on red-right-returning buoys barely opened their sleepy eyes as Whisper sailed quietly past.

Frank and I dodged some ferries while we tacked downwind, getting an additional push from the flood tide swirling through Rich Passage. My GPS showed a couple of +6.5 knot runs. Kept busy by shifting winds, swirling currents and the occasional ferry, I sailed with one hand on the tiller and the other on the mainsheet, taking no pictures on this leg.

The Attraction of the Port Washington Narrows

As we exited Rich Passage and turned to port toward Port Orchard, we had some very long runs beating to weather. Both of us seemed to forget about the flood tide. The Harry P and Whisper started to get sucked into the Port Washington Narrows as we passed close to Point Herron in shoal water. The wind was in a fluky, shifting pattern by then, and I was fortunate to get a few minutes of good lift, allowing me to scoot out of the worst of the current.

By mid-afternoon the wind was really starting to pick up, with some gusts making me wish I had reefed the main. I reduced the genoa to a scrap of sail and continued to tack my way back to the boat launch. Coming up fast on a sizzling reach was the Harry P, making great time under sail.

Once I was approximately equidistant between the Bremerton ferry terminal, the naval shipyard and the boat launch, I practiced heaving to in the freshening wind. Once comfortable with that procedure, I dropped the main, furled the genoa, and motored back to the launch.

Back at the Ramp

Frank and I helped each other haul out and take down our rigs. I was fascinated with the differences between the different generations of Potter. The mast and rigging on hull 346 is very different than on hull 1555, but that did not appear to affect how well the boats sailed — Frank sailed the Harry P with conviction and usually sailed faster than I did in Whisper.

With a handshake, a tired but satisfied gleam in our eyes, and feeling very intrepid for having braved rain, hail and thunder, we headed home. I encountered quite a bit of rain on the way home, providing an effective freshwater rinse for the trailer and hull.

I would do this trip again. And one of these days, I want to go north and squirt through Agate Passage to visit Port Madison and points beyond!