Friday, Day 1

I wanted to be off the pier by 14:00, but we managed to leave by 16:00.  The weather was very warm and sunny.  Not a lick of wind anywhere.  Three sailboats were out, and their sails looked like draperies.  No sailing today.  The tide was against us, so we would have to do our best to beat against it.  I set the engine RPM to make 6kts and we made about 5.2kts over ground.  It was an epic day to be on the water.  Once we rounded Dana Passage into Case Inlet, you could look down towards Nisqually Reach and see Mt Rainer, Mt Bachelor, and to the north we could see all of the Olympics Mountains.  The only thing that would have made it better was if we had wind.

 

 As we ran north up Case Inlet, we chose to pass between Heron Island and Key Peninsula.  The sun was low on the horizon and we could see the forecasted front overtaking the Olympic Mountains.  The small ferry that runs between the Key Peninsula and the Heron Island passed us and greetings were exchanged. Before long Heron Island was behind us and the bluff that marks the entrance to Vaughn Bay was in view.  I was lamenting the late start to Sam as darkness was ascending upon us. The chop was building making difficult to see the channel. Sam (My Uncle) was standing on the bow with a spot light and I was peering at the shore through the binoculars.  By this time it was very dark.  We managed to see the pilings that line the spit.  Following the pilings we found the entrance. 

It was not until we were about 100 yards from the entrance, before we were able to see it clearly.  By this time I had slowed our speed. As we entered the channel and watched our fathometer carefully.  We past the spit 30 yards to starboard and never saw a depth less than 15 feet.  I corrected my course to run left to center channel and found 25 feet of water.  A side note, we came in just after high tide.   We were safely inside the bay.

After entering the Vaughn Bay we started looking for a place to drop the hook.  When you come into the bay, the east side of the spit is relatively shallow.  I could not find any water deeper than 15 feet. We then searched back and forth and up and down the bay in the dark looking for about 20 plus feet to drop the hook.  We ended up running towards the south side of the bay and a little east to find deeper water.  We dropped the hook in 25 feet of water, which gave us 12 feet water at low tide. 

Soon after the anchor was set, Sam and I came topside to enjoy the evening.  As fast as the wind came up, it calmed down.  We spun on the anchor and watched God’s little lanterns burn in the sky and talked about life.  It’s these precious moments that make life worth living. 

Saturday, Day 2

Before going to bed, Sam predicted that is at would rain two o’clock in the morning. I said no, the rain would miss us or maybe a few showers, and with that I went to bed. From 02:00 to around 06:00 the rain beat against the hull and the wind howled through the halyards.  The next morning I woke up at 07:30, going topside the sky was gray and a stiff breeze blew out of the south.  I made a pot of Joe and began to type up the previous days adventure. I made a quick call to Tom Ripple on Pyxis.  He was supposed to come up Saturday morning from Portland, and be at the cruise late.  To my surprise he was rounding the southern point of Hartstene Island and starting his downwind run up Case Inlet.  I figured that he would be in VHF range in about an hour.

The tide was out and we found ourselves sitting in a big bowl.  Sam and I decided to row over to the spit and check out where we might have the potluck.  Because of the tide, the spit was a good 15 to 20 feet above us.  We pulled the dinghy about 10 feet up the side of the spit and climbed up the top.  Cresting the spit we looked out over a gray and angry Case Inlet.  Dark gray clouds hung low to the earth and the wind blew 15 to 20 kts.  Pyxis was rounding up and was bucking the seas as Tom was furling his jib.  Midnight Blue was crossing from Stretch Island where they had laid over for the night.  It was more than a little bumpy coming across the inlet.

I was in communications with both Midnight Blue and Pyxis by radio.  Pyxis entered the channel first.  The tide was very low, Midnight Blue was holding back to see how Pyxis did.  Pyxis draws five feet of water while Midnight Blue draws six feet.  Sam and I walked to the entrance of the spit to watch the boats enter.  As Pyxis was the first boat to arrive we decided to give Tom a two moon salute.  He laughed as he threaded his way through the entrance.  I was getting ready to hail Midnight Blue and give them the go ahead, when I looked over at Pyxis and saw that he had run aground just inside the channel.  Tom said that the water went from 10 feet to 4 feet in a matter of about 20 yards.  I radioed  Midnight Blue to waive them off.  They said that they would hang out somewhere until the tide came up a bit. 

Sam and I fetched the dinghy and rowed over to assist Pyxis.  When we were close enough, I asked how could I help.  Tom in the most nonchalant manner said “after you row out my anchor, you can get me a beer”.  So that’s exactly what I did.  Rowing back to Cygnet, I could see the water was only a few feet deep.  What was amazing was there were thousands and thousands of starfish all over the bottom.  Every color shape and size.  I wish I had my camera. 

In short order we made it back to Cygnet.  I dropped of Sam, grabbed a couple of beers and rowed back over to Pyxis.  By this time the tide was coming in quickly.  Pyxis had spun on her keel and Tom was keeping tension on the anchor line.  Boarding Pyxis I open a couple of beers. By the time we finished our beer, Pyxis was floating. We hauled the anchor and then gingerly picked our way through the shallow water. About ten minutes later Pyxis was rafted up to Cygnet.

For the next couple of hours boats started arriving by the twos and threes. As the tide filled in so did South Sound boats.  Sam and I rowed back to shore and started to set up for the potluck.  Sam and I were stacking wood for the fire, arranging logs and Sam made a nice table for all the plates.  Around 15:00 a Chinook Helicopter passed directly overhead.  Later I was told that it was Alex our past Commodore flew over Vaughn Bay making his impromptu appearance.  Alex was unable to attend the Cruise due to maintenance issues on a bird that was being delivered to our boys and girls in green.  Hats off to Alex for his hard work keeping the birds flying!

Back on the water Commodore Don was welcoming everyone by kayaking boat to boat.  He looked like a red humming bird buzzing back and forth between all the boats. I’m not sure but I think there was booze involved in many of his stops.  At about 17:30 (that’s 5:30 PM for Myra Downing) we were pretty much set up on shore.  Folks were ferrying back and forth between boats and shore.  By the time the fire was started there were 20 boats at anchor in the little harbor.   The food came in waves.  There were pulled pork sandwiches, tuna salad, Kielbasa and Vegetable grill, meat balls, and on and on it went.  As I like to say “a cornucopia of goodness”.  I’m sorry if I did not mention your plate, but I know I ate it and it was all wonderful.  Hey… What were in those cookies…. They were good!

During dinner, three more boats came in.  As the sun was setting, folks were having great conservations, and was laughter everywhere. It was fun walking from group to group and talking with everyone.  Folks were enjoying the fire and friends, and cocktails and conversation.  As the night dwindled so did the fire and folks on shore.  There was a hearty bunch that stayed on spit until almost 23:00.   Sam and Tom helped me police the beach in the dark.  We watched folks row away into the darkness.  The bioluminescence glowed with each oar stroke as they made the way back to their boats. It glowed so brightly that you could see the fish swimming. Thera Black was kayaking in the dark, watching the fish dart along the shoreline. 

We loaded up the two dinghies and rowed back to the boats.  The row back to Cygnet was beautiful. The sky was full of stars and the milky way stood directly overhead. Glowing vortexes spun off the tip off the oar blade with each stroke.  The bay was full of mast anchor lights as our little armada  laid at rest. Tom and I sat on Cygnet and a nightcap and called it a night.

 Sunday Day 3.

I woke up early and started coffee.  I poked my head topside to see if Pax had started waffles.  The bay laid quiet, no one appeared to be topside enjoying the cool morning. I could hear Tom moving around Pyxis.  I invited him over for coffee.  He had just brewed a pot and brought it with him.  I had to get back to Olympia early so I could not stay for waffles.  I made up corn beef hash, eggs and pancakes.  By 09:00 I had pulled up the anchor and broke raft.  Back on shore I could see Rod and Susan hulling up the spit a huge pot of waffle batter.  By the time I cleared the spit a group of folks had made their way to shore and were enjoying hot waffles.  Running close to shore, I received jeers from the Commodore. The trip back was not notable other than being another magnificent day on Puget Sound.

 

Boats in attendance, no particular order: Gray Seal, Maranatha, Midnight Blue, Pax, Murrelet, Pyxis, Wind Swept, Pandora, Sidetrack, Sir Pending, Sea Bear, Zealot, Skaga, Moment, Kalakala, Grendel, Balder, Vintage, Renoziquah and Cygnet.  There were three other boats that did not sign in.  The only bad day on the water is the day you’re on it.

 

A big thanks to Rod, Susan, Don, Thera, Tom and Sam for all the help with the cruise.  Because of you guys, the cruise was a hit!

 

Mark Welpman

Your friendly neighborhood Cruise Chair.

Cygnet