May 12, 2006

A Long Lost Friend, laceName w:st="on">MysterylaceName> laceType w:st="on">BaylaceType>.

Position: 48’03.38 N, 122’ 41.83’W

Captain: Arieyeh J. Austin

Time on Water: 4 hours

            Based on the weather reports off of the VHF, and a growing impatience with the people and friendlessness of those in the Port Townsend area, as well as its general location to the down town area, we decided to depart the marina for a more rustic location.  After perusing the charts for some time, Barb and I decided that the best place we could find which we felt would be away from people and the clatter of urban sprawl would be in a place called laceName w:st="on">MysterylaceName> laceType w:st="on">BaylaceType>.  It was a small and rather difficult little location to reach, located approximately 7-10 nautical miles West of Port Townsend across laceType w:st="on">PortlaceType> laceName w:st="on">TownsendlaceName> laceType w:st="on">BaylaceType> on laceName w:st="on">ArrowlaceName> laceName w:st="on">StonelaceName> laceName w:st="on">IndianlaceName> laceType w:st="on">IslandlaceType>, on the East Side of Illisut Harbor.  We were not sure what the “mystery” was, but were bound and determined to find out.  The trip across Port Townsend Bat was fairly simple enough.  The winds were still mincingly out of the North / North West, a constant reminder to our current plight on crossing the Straights of San Juan Fuca and the Partridge Bank.  At a broad reach with all three sails set we reached the opening of laceName w:st="on">IllisutlaceName> laceType w:st="on">HarborlaceType> in less then 30 minutes.  The real fun was just beginning…  The harbor to the bay was like running a snake like go cart race, with the depth meter constantly buzzing to remind that we were at low tide.  On several different occasions I was sure we were going to run aground.  We were relived from time to time by seeing Harbor Seals scattered throughout the area.  They couldn’t do anything about the depth, but were a great help in taking our minds off of it.  We did notice that there seemed to be many more here then in other areas.  Once we were out of the entrance and actually into laceName w:st="on">IllisutlaceName> laceType w:st="on">HarborlaceType> the depth gradually increased again.  The only real tricky point which I should note here was that between the last two green buoys there is a small shoal, which if you try to cut straight across, you’re sure to strike.  We recommend staying in the channel and following all of the buoys, no mater how “wiggly” it may seem to be.

            Entering laceName w:st="on">MysterylaceName> laceType w:st="on">BaylaceType> was like entering an entirely different world.  I truly can not tell you how pleased we were, or relate to you all of the stories and friends we made while we were there.  Needless to say, however, it was the highlight of our trip so far and more then made up for the endless waiting and expenditures of Port Townsend.  The first thing we noticed as we entered the bay, other then its completely quant and natural feel, was a 70 foot schooner anchored in its center.  The ship was in bad shape, and looked like it needed a complete overhaul.  I insulted it under my breath, but regretted doing so later.  As it turns out, the boat was built in 1805 in Grand Rapids Michigan.  Her name was “Merlin”.  She had been used as a work vessel of some kind until she was purchased for personnel use around 1875.  She was then sailed up the Saint Lawrence Sea Way, down the east coast of the United States, and then down the islands of the Bahamas and Caribbean until reaching South America.  She then past around the Horn from East to West and traveled back North until reaching Alaska.  While there, she was struck by a Blue Whale and sunk!  The owner paid to raise her, where she was brought back to Port Townsend for repairs.  When the money ran out, so did the repairs.  She was sailed from Port Townsend to laceName w:st="on">IllisutlaceName> laceType w:st="on">HarborlaceType> where she has been privately owned and sailed since.  While I would like to say that this was the best story of the bay, nothing could have prepared us for what we found next…

            As we rounded the Schooner, Nesaru began to vibrate slightly.  Now, if you had not sailed her extensively yourself, you may not have even felt it.  It was almost as if it were a simply “humm” of some kind.  I can honestly say it was not a bad feeling.  I was sure it was not an engine problem.  Rather, I got the distinct impression that my little baby was trying to say something to me.  We continued forward until Barb plainly stated, “Oh my God.”  Directly in front of us, no more then 300 meters away, was a boat which looked strikingly like our own.  She was covered from top to bottom with canvas, and so was rather difficult to make out her exact lines.  It was enough to strike all of our interests, however, and so we headed in that direction.  I could feel Nesaru swelling with anticipation as we past the last two moored boats between our selves and our prey.  I took one long sweep by her just to be safe.  She was clearly a gaffer, and had a sprit of about 6-8 feet and her bomb hung past her transom by 2 feet at least.  Although I could not be sure with out looking under the canvas, her lines were almost exactly like our own.  I brought her in close from the stern of the moored boat to take a better look.  In utter shock and amazement, both Barb, Nesaru, and Myself exploded with screeches of laughter and joy upon seeing here cockpit… it was a Friendship Sloop, exactly like our own.  Nesaru putted along, the ripples of water off of her bow uttered unheard words of, “hello, where have you been?” to her long lost friend.  As I stared, mouth a gap, at this little beauty, I felt my heart and soul burst with the same emotion I had encountered the first time I had ever seen a Friendship Sloop.  She was simply elegant.  She was beautiful.  We decided to move the boat to the float in order to allow Sophia to run.  She (Sophia) had become increasingly energetic since the trip had begun, and was becoming quite a hand full.  Nesaru, despite her beautiful lines and grace under sail, was not designed for four people to live below, but rather to hold the lobsters caught off of the East coast.  Being connected to the hard was beneficial, and paid huge dividends for Barb and I once Sophia was off and running.

            Once we were tied up, we had three separate encounters, all of which must be retold so that a true appreciation of the bay can be achieved.  The first was with the group of Kayakers who were preparing their boats for a week trip on the shore adjacent to the float.  As I walked up to investigate the facilities, we noticed huge amounts of Oysters under the float.  There must have been thousands of them.  I had never seen so many oysters in one spot.  Upon making some inquires as to how to eat them, how to “shuck” them, and obtaining permission from the float manager, I dove in and brought up 10-15 of the shells and with eager earnest began to shuck them.  Once they were out, I cleaned them in fresh water, padded them down, and Barb planned on adding them to our dinner meal after rolling them in flower and baking them.  The overall end result was delightful.  I am hoping (and planning) on repeating the process again on the trip.

            The second story involved a gentleman named Steve who had built a Nordic looking vessel, and had it tied to the hard as well.  I was not able to meet him until later that night.  His boat created a bit of a local attraction, and there was more then enough stories to go around as to its design, etc.  I must say, especially after meeting him, that I was equally fascinated with both his originality, eccentric independence, and his general state of competence.  He was unique, and I hope to read about his journeys or bump into him again.  His boat, the “Galawhiel” had been named from a dream he had.  It appeared to him in it, and so was destined to become the name of the vessel which had already been to Alaska twice, and was about to depart for a third time.  Ironically, the name has no real definition in the Norwegian languages.  The mast of the boat was made from an old light post which had been purchased and shipped, and then installed by the Port Townsend Rigging Company (Good job Lisa and Dan) for under $1,000.00!  Its composition was the same as those of other boats now (zinc, aluminum, etc..) to make it safe and steady, apparently.  As to the lines of the boat… well, it was a self enclosed entirely sturdy, “Viking” boat.  It had an eagle head on its bow, which had been carved by his brother, and had the running lights installed as the creatures eyes.  Two wind vanes and solar panels kept his battery packs charged, and collapsible water cans gave him enough liquid to complete his trips.  The cockpit of the boat was inside, which could be reached after activating four hydraulic pumps which would lift the top of the cabin up.  Here was located his rowing chairs and oars, which he literally used to “row” to his destinations.  There was no boom (nor were there on the old Norwegian vessels of antiquity).  He could hoist one huge Genoa, which stretched from the bow to the stern and supplied him with forward (and sometimes sideways) momentum when appropriate.  It was a beautiful boat.  We wish him the best of luck on his endeavors, and will look for him again in the future.

            The third and last story I will relate for this little laceType w:st="on">baylaceType> of laceName w:st="on">MysterylaceName> brings us full circle back to our little lost friend in the bay, the other friendship sloop.  After diving for oysters, Barb was preparing a meal of T-Bone Steak, Oysters, Baked Potato’s, and Francis Ford Coppala wine (a personnel favorite from Chicago which was introduced to me from an old friend named Scott McClellan, a fellow officer in the military at the time).  I decided to take Sophia and myself over to the Friendship in the dink so that I could leave some contact information for them.  The name of the boat was “Selkie.” She was a 25 foot Friendship sloop (36 with gaff) just like ours.  Once I returned to the hard, I was greeted by two lovely individuals, Brad and Suzi Clinefelter (503-880-1385 & 503-636-5269).  I could only describe the following story of theirs as, “ironic.”  As it turns out, when Barb and I moved here we looked for other friendship sloops on the West coast which we could contact in order to find out how to rig her, sail her appropriately, etc.  There were several that we were able to locate on the Friendship Sloop Society Web page (link provided on this sight) as well as their annual year book once we became members.  Of all those we could find, the closest was in Port Townsend!  There were only three others located on the West Coast, and no other ones in the Puget Sound or Pacific North West.  Unfortunately, the year book we had showed that the Friendship Sloop which was kept in Port Townsend had “disappeared” two years ago.  Barb and I looked for her when we were in the Marina, but could not find her.  When we talked to Carral Hasse of Port Townsend Sails and Lisa and Dan from Port Townsend Rigging, they all mentioned that they remembered another Friendship sloop located in the area, but had not seen her in some time.  This seemed to correlate to the information we had gained from the FSS yearbook.  Disheartened, we moved the boat to laceName w:st="on">MysterylaceName> laceType w:st="on">BaylaceType>, having given up the Search.  Unbeknownst to us, Brad and Suzi received a call from a friend that very same day asking if they were out sailing.  They replied no, a bit surprised.  They were really shocked when their friend told them that he was watching another friendship sloop sail into Port Townsend!  They immediately left their home and headed over to the marina to see if they could find this boat.  After inquiring at the harbor Masters office and getting our boat slip, they arrived one hour after we had departed.  Saddened, they too returned to their home.  Once they arrived there, another friend of theirs called them to let them know that he could see someone crawling on their boat.  It was, as I mentioned before, me leaving my number and address.  They of course did not know that, and so rushed down to the Bay to run right into our little Nesaru tied at the dock!  After an initial greeting, jubilation and exulted joy followed as the two skippers began to relate story after story.  It appears that we both had heard of each others boats, and had tried from time to time to locate one another.  I do truly believe that G-d does watch out over mariners and all other life here on or little globe.  It is too coincidental to me that on our last trip in the Sound, after two years of searching,  that the only two Friendship Sloops in the entire Puget Sound should happen to moor in the same little off the path bay, for one miraculous evening.  I also truly believe that boats have souls, which can relate to their skippers the past histories and adventures, as well as to let you know (if you pay close enough attention) as to when they are happy or sad.  I can tell you now that both little boats were ecstatic at being side by side. 

            Brad and Suzi brought Selkie over to the hard so that we could have a closer look.  I greeted them upon their approach with the firing of one of our two “12 pounder” replicas off of their bow.  I must say, their boat was in excellent condition and wonderfully maintained.  She had been featured in a book called “Down below Yacht Interiors”.  Her cabin was all teak, and Brad had done a lot of personnel modifications to make her more comfortable.  She truly did shine.  We were particularly interested in her Bronze window mounts and her cowl vent openings, which provide much more air below decks then our own.  Her sails were of red cloth.  Suzi made recommendations as to alternative people we could purchase our new sails from to save money.  They highly recommended North West Sails (Shawn Rankin) and North West Canvas (Ingre Rankin).  Barb and I have decided to stay with Carrol Hasse, however.  It is a lot more, but she was so kind to us on our visit that I almost feel as if I would be betraying her if I did not complete our transaction.  Additionally, there is no arguing the quality of the sails she can produce.  Suzi also recommended a good book on the subject, “Sail Makers Apprentice.”  At the end of the night we exchanged information and bid each other fair well.  It was a reunion long in the making, and one which was well worth the wait.  They were the kindest people you can imagine, and made the stay in laceName w:st="on">MysterylaceName> laceType w:st="on">BaylaceType> complete.  The next morning, with the tides in our favor and winds from the west, we slipped out of the bay and gazed contently one last time over our shoulder at Selkie.  I know she is in far better hands then my own.  Fair winds, my friends… fair winds.