The Nightmare.
A Nightmare sneaks up on you like fog. It lures you into a comfort zone an almost euphoric experience, only to pounce when you unexpectantly look away.
We settled into the regime of sailing on dark waters. The lights and patterns of the shadowed coastline become your guide. The night wind shifted to NNW. We confronted a 9nm beat towards Saratoga Passage.
Hayden took the helm after our rounding of Possession Point. The first leg started on a favorable 0.5 kt current, near the center of the channel. The Eastern shore provided a bit of a lift. The Western shore (WhidbeyIslIsle) put you into a wind shadow. If you ventured too close to the shore, you were becalmed. The moon reflection showed the wind ripples on the water. The moon took over the clear sky reflecting a quarter moon light aiding the sailors. Of course, there is the Washington State Ferry that crossed our path through the night, teasing us. Tempting us, lit up like a Christmas tree, there in the dark, steaming at 18-20 kts, sending a wake down the sound to mess with our sail set in the breeze. We would need to time our crossing of their path with care.
The winds and currents emboldened Hayden at the Helm. During the next 2 hours Papillon would reward his spirit and steady hand. Papillon took a bite of the wind on a port tack clawing her way towards the eastern shore. Uneasy in her progress. Hayden used the Garmin chart plotter to help determine our VMG (Velocity Made Good) towards Gedney Island. Papillon was not yet ready. Not settling into the rhythm. Fighting the helm showing a VMG of 1. Nearing the shore Hayden called for a tack to starboard. With crew searching the black waters for other boats the helm was a lee and Papillon reacted. Like a racehorse released from the gates we were off on a thrilling 4nm ride. Hayden shares the experience: “I settled into the groove on this tack. Crew called out heading as Papillon rewarded him with a constant 31º Apparent wind angle with a 20º heel.” Clearly, we were in the zone making +5vmg towards our goal. “Life was Good!”.
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Sailing is a give and take kind of activity. For every magical ride there is a hill to climb. On Port tack the zip felt gone. Hayden describes it thus… “On each port tack I had a difficult time getting Papillon to settle.” When I came back to the cockpit after gearing up for the night sail he commented “It is like I can only sail on Starboard tack.”
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About 11:30 after he had beaten the channel back and forth working our way in a Northerly direction, our skipper changed the watch. Ever attentive to the crews needs he went below to change clothes, prepped some sandwiches, made coffee, then checked in with our secret sailor (Hayden’s wife Sue, who was watching our progress on computer and providing tactical sailing insight). Coming up with sandwiches for the crew, Hayden’s feel of the boat provided guidance, “maybe we should shorten our tacks”. Eventually, Hayden rested down in the cabin on the starboard settee. He needed to be ready for the 0200 watch.
Trying this new strategy, our deck crew became quite proficient at smooth quick tacks that kept the boat from stalling. We moved through the dark looking for that time to challenge the ferry during a lull in their crossings.
Through the dark hours, we made positive progress towards our goal, rounding Sand Point, and charging up Saratoga passage towards the finish line. From time to time we could see various boats on the water as their running lights twinkled against the black shadowed east and west shores. The breezes though light were enough to keep us moving. We found a puff holding a reasonable tack with and against the currents. We avoided the Ferries and progressed to the dark mound of Gedney island. The monotony was occasionally spiced with a sailboat appearing out of the dark trying to cross our path. All eyes scanned our identified quadrants trying to identify the light images of red, white, green / or red white/ green white / red green. We crossed the bow of one boat, and astern of another. As quickly as they appeared they would disappear, their running lights blending into the lights on the shoreline.
As the witching hour, 0200, arrived so did the skipper, after apparently being rolled (without notice) out of his nice warm berth due to a starboard tack, in our gentle breeze. He announced he was awake and ready to take the watch. Briefed on our position, the dangers we were avoiding, he took the helm.
I sought the comfort of a bench, the settee in the cabin, to lay down and rest my eyes. Who knew being on edge searching for wind puffs and sail boats in the dark could be so energy draining.
Words just do not give justice to the sailing nightmare Hayden experienced at the helm that watch. Here is the record of our track. As the wind disappeared, the currents took over. I’ll let record of our track tell the story…
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You have to live it to comprehend the frustration that overwhelms as you try and search every sailing trick you have ever heard about in an attempt to get free from the nightmare.
When I came up about 0500 rested climbing into the cockpit I asked, “How are we doing”. “We are in the same XX$&**% place we were when you went below for your NAPPIE…”
Instantly I knew… it had not been a good night.