May 6, 2006
A Bitter Sweet Beginning; Olympia, WA
Position: 47’05.83’ North, 122’ 55.53’ West
Captain: Arieyeh J. Austin
Time on Water: 9 hours, 12 minutes
All good things must come to an end, or at least that is the way the stories go. Barb and I had received orders to report to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, upon the completion of my current duties as Aide De Camp to the Deputy Commanding General of I Corps and Fort Lewis, WA, MG John W. Morgan III. I say, “we received orders,” because as any family who has been privileged to serve our great nation and its populace knows full well, our families are as much servants to our occupation as we are. There is no escape from the inevitable pull of the “great green mean machine.” We were to report no later then the end of July. We hastily made plans to conduct one last great jump into the void of adventure with our faithful little vessel, Nesaru. While it may be mandated that our service would be required elsewhere, we could not dismiss the lure of the magnetic pull that the Pacific North West held over us. How could we bring a Friendship Sloop so far, having carried her from Boston, MA, to Olympia, WA, and never even have left the Puget Sound? It was too heart sickening to even consider – a tragedy of Shakespearian proportions which simply could not occur.
While Barb and I hovered over the charts, painfully reviewing countless articles in such magazines as “Practical Sailor,” “Wooden Boat,” and “Sail” as well as purchasing videos from West Marine in order to prepare us for a trip to the illustrious San Juan Islands, located north of the Puget Sound just on the other side of the Straits of San Juan Fuca, our oldest Daughter, Sophia, had a different glean in her eye. Oh no, it seemed that it was not enough simply to cruise in one of the worlds top five rated sailing locations as a family for her. On the contrary, while I was plotting courses I failed to notice that our youngest was practicing her fencing techniques in the basement. How could I possible not notice the scream of, “Surrender you British Dog!” screeched by the lungs of a 2 ½ year old over the tedious review of chart #1? You would have thought that Barb would have at least stopped momentarily from the complimentary West Marine video of the San Juans Islands (happily given after our quadrillionth visit and purchase in that Armageddon of bankruptcy) when Sophia was rolling our miniature cannon’s, along with enough shot to sink all of her majesties ships to the bottom of Davy Jones Locker, out of the front door. Unfortunately, neither of us did notice these quintessential necessities for a toddler. Hence, it came to quite a surprise, I assure you, when upon the day of our departure, we found her suitcase full of swords, daggers, eye patches, shot, and other such paraphernalia. When Barb inquired into her motives, she simply stated, (this part is translated by her rather adventures and high expectant father) “I plan on taking my crew of scallywags into uncharted and enemy waters, were by we shall endeavor to bombard the English Fort and its Garrison on Orcas Island, while flying my mommy’s underwear as a Jolly Roger, settling at last the question as to who truly won the Great Pig War!”
And so it began. It was a bitter sweet feeling as we rolled into Swantown Marina for the last time in Olympia, WA, on the far South Side of the Puget Sound. A close friend, Lenny, as well as his girlfriend Beth, was waiting for us in the Marina upon our arrival. Chris Baker, our carpenter and perhaps the closest and most sincere friend any person could ask for, was also present. This unlikely gathering of people had consolidated not just to say good by and good luck, but to observe the inaugural test fire of our two 12” cannons, which had been specifically created for Nesaru for our new Captain, Sophia, and her plan to decimate the English dogs in the now contested San Juans of the 1800’s. The cannons were hastily prepared on the lawn of the marina as I completed the last loading of Nesaru, who was patiently waiting our departure at High Tide. Lenny made a short and appropriate speech, being the main creative force behind the creation of the two weapons, and then lighted both. The resulting explosion of 12 gauge blank shot, cheese cloth, and potato flower was enough to shock every bird with in miles to “drop load” and flee in an undetermined direction. While this sent all of us into a state of hysteria, the proprietors of the marina were less then thrilled. Let me just say that while 12 gauge blank may seem insignificant to a soldier, civilians seem to have a much smaller appreciation for loud noises (or for seagull droppings). We were given a well deserved pummeling. We then loaded the cannon’s onto Nesaru, and then bid our home birth farewell. As we past out of the last peer into laceName w:st="on">BudlaceName> laceName w:st="on">InletlaceName>, Chris Baker waived good by to us one last time. I will truly miss his friendship and advice. He has always been a good cohort of ours.
We had deliberately planned our departure time to coincide with High Tide, having learned our lessons about tides on the ocean from our last trip near Poverty Bay North of Tacoma. High Tide was at 12:31 PM at 7.2 feet, with the next low tide being at 6:53 PM at 2.5 feet with the moon being in the first quarter. The winds were 5-10 knots from the South / South West. Additionally, the barometer was reading 1020 and dropping (not good) However, with the wind and current/tide on our side with a 11:00 am departure, we were more then confident that we could reach Seattle by nightfall. I knew as soon as we tacked north into Dana’s Passage near laceName w:st="on">BostonlaceName> laceType w:st="on">HarborlaceType> onto a broad reach that I was correct. The wind and waves, along with our 13 HP Westerbeak engine that Jason had just overhauled from Shirtz Marine, pushed us along at an incredible pace. We were not only able to reach Seattle, but pushed even further to laceName w:st="on">EaglelaceName> laceType w:st="on">HarborlaceType> on laceName w:st="on">BainbridgelaceName> laceType w:st="on">IslandlaceType> by 8 PM, averaging at just over 8.5 knots an hour! Not bad for our little baby, particularly with as low as she was in the water line carrying three weeks of provisions (not to mention Sophia’s war and landing party essentials). We completed our first days leg with a warm cup of “Joe” from the Pegasus Coffee House, located just up the hill from the marina… highly recommended. As the sun set, I felt rather content at what we were attempting to undertake. It may be a short while before we have to move, but just as in life, we will endeavor to make the most out of it.
