GOING SOUTH

In July Candace, Harrison, Humphrey and I went south for six days on Gypsy.

Each of us have our own interest in boating. One of us for example, likes to stay in one interesting place, sleep in, have coffee in bed, and generally unlax. Another of us likes to rise at 05:00, start the engine and explore as many miles of shoreline as daylight allows. Another of us loves running and chasing sticks on the beach, while the final member of our entourage likes nothing better than to find new bushes to smell messages on left by other dogs. The reader will appreciate that harmony always prevails because all such preferences are easily catered to.

Our first stop was Cabbage Island at the south end of Saturna. More-than-average care must be exercised when approaching this otherwise excellent anchorage. We had an exchange of words with the commanding officer of another boat regarding appropriate proximity when at anchor. This person felt that a kilometre or so is in order. I believe half this distance is sufficient when there are so many of us to be accommodated.

We checked in with the customs at Friday Harbour. The boys needed to show certification that they were not hydrophobic. I had to attest that Gypsy had no Idaho potatoes, Florida oranges, Cuban cigars or BC Bud on board, and that she was 894.92 cm (29 feet 11 inches) long. There were no forms to fill out and no fees to pay; just "Have a good visit".

That night was spent on a buoy at Blind Island State Park, just across the way from the Orcas ferry landing. We found that the Washington marine park system is excellent. There are lots of places, easily located using a brochure they sent us. Anchoring is free, buoys cost US$7. You go ashore to pay. Washington has not privatised their parks, so each is visited daily by a real park ranger.

Not far away is Flounder Bay. This is Coconut Grove, Florida North. About 4,000 million-dollar plus yachts tied up at the front doors of houses built on rock fill islands. Plebeians such as us were not encouraged as there was no public dock to be found.

Along the shores of Lummi and Whidbey Islands are lots and lots and lots of newish mansions with an estimated floor area of 929.03 square metres (10,000 sq. ft.) plus, each. Clearly, pauper's country. It is interesting to note that none of these houses' views are blocked by walls of unsightly 'topped' trees… and although metal roofs are common, these have a matte dark green colour that blends in with the surroundings. I understand that this is in keeping with the recommendations of the PACDGA (Presidential Advisory Committee on the Discouragement of Garish Architecture), an organisation I'd like to see set up shop on Saltspring.

Deception Pass has two marine parks. We checked out the one at the east side and decided we did not like the extremely shallow water and large number of boats there. The park at the west entrance was perfect. Well protected, spacious, lots of walking trails, nice beach, showers on shore. Even a small museum dedicated to the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC).

I'd never heard of the CCC before. It was a 300,000 strong work project put in place by Franklin Roosevelt in 1933. This park was one of their projects.

The downside of this otherwise idyll is that not far away is a US Airforce base that practices afterburner-assisted scrambles and various sorts of aerial combat between 02:00 and 05:00 in the morning. The resulting racket, known locally as the "Sounds of Freedom" (sic), scared the bejeepers out of Humphrey. He is very sensitive.

Deception Pass, by the way, is quite fun to go through on a following tide. Something like a mega Dodds Narrows. Not for the feint-of-heart.

At the eastern end of Skagit Bay one enters a well-marked 10 foot deep depression in the mud that takes one through some very picturesque countryside to LaConner. The tide makes this waterway into a moderately swift river which changes direction several times per day. Navigation, as such, is easy, but tying up at a dock under these conditions takes a little thinking about.

On the way north in Padilla Bay we were met by at least fifty high powered crab boats apparently heading home for the night, each with a smiling and waving crew of two. Each of these craft carried perhaps twenty or thirty crap traps. I'm curious about why these boats have such a modest number of traps and why these were not in the water.

As we continued north it slowly dawned on me that the navigation channels here were devoid of bleach bottles, milk jugs and other flotsam held in place by floating rope attached to crab traps. Yes, we did see several red and white buoys duly marked with names and telephone numbers at our overnight stops, but these were unobtrusively located and easily seen. One of the park rangers explained that badly placed traps are unceremoniously removed by anyone and everyone in the common public interest.

Saddlebag Island was another neat overnight stop, followed next morning by a brief visit to the fuel and holding tank pumps at Anacortes. The water in these parts is very shallow and you really have to watch where you are going.

As you leave Anacortes you become aware of the substantial industrial activity taking place here. Ship yards - one with a very large floating drydock - seafood warehouses with unloading Alaskan trawlers. People working.

We actually got some wind crossing over to James Island just off Decatur, which was the stop before Bedwell Harbour and an encounter-to-be-remembered with the stalwart members of the Canadian Customs and Revenue Service. I'm not really quite sure what sorts of things are in danger of being smuggled in from the states, as things are not at all cheaper there. They ask about apricots and whiskey, but I'm sure they have something more sinister in mind as they shine their flashlights into my bilge.

If you haven't cruised south yet, consider doing so. We enjoyed it.