A new perspective on the Seattle skyline

I'm still figuring out this blogging thing. Next on my list to tackle and conquer is how to attach photos individually with specific posts. I want to keep the photos that run down the side of my blog, but want to be able to add more photos, too.

That will have to wait for another day, though. Which means you'll have to wait to experience the amazing views I enjoyed today of the Downtown Seattle skyline. W-O-W, what a beautiful city I'm privileged to live near!

Today's sail was a new experience in several ways. New skipper (and his wife). New boat. New marina. Much bigger boat - big enough to cause most any sailor a feeling of boat envy. 42 feet! Two could live aboard quite comfortably... and only bump into each other every fifteen minutes or so instead of every other second. :P

Alan and Wendy were great hosts, very pleasant, welcoming, and sociable. They met through sailing and have been together for the closer side of ten years. I wonder if sailing is the only thing that brought and keeps them together, or do they have other compatibilities? They were good people. I would happily sail with them again.



Eight of us on board, though, is surely a different dynamic compared to just three. More than one conversation was generally happening at the same time, and thus I was forever trying to figure out which one to listen to or participate in. It's less intimate, to be sure. I do think I prefer a smaller group, especially with people I've connected with. But branching out and meeting new folks and getting new experiences is a great thing, too!

We sailed out of Shilshole Marina, which is near a much-beloved part of the Puget Sound region called Ballard. And also attached by proximity to the wonderful Golden Gardens Park. I have fond and varied memories of Golden Gardens Park. I've attended two weddings held in the Bathhouse there on the beach. Very simple affairs, while being the most beautiful weddings I've been privileged to witness. I've also attended an awkward 'singles' volleyball barbecue on that beach one time, several years ago. And also have stood on that same beach in the cold on a December evening near a bonfire reminiscent (to me) of "Burning Man" (not that I've ever been) and watched the lighted boats come in to the bay for the Lighted Boat Parade, complete with Christmas carols over loudspeaker. Golden Gardens holds a special fondness for me.

Anyway, a great thing about going out of Shilshole is that we were way close to another marina, Elliot Bay, which is just North of Downtown Seattle. We sailed down into the waters just off Downtown. That was waaaay cool! There were ferries coming and going. Giant cruise ships docked and, eventually, leaving port while we were out in shared waters with them. Incredible views of Downtown, plus (of course) the Space Needle, as well as other boats out sailing with us.






Bigger boat means bigger sails means faster sail speeds! We reached 7.5 knots, our top speed of the day as far as I know. That was while we were heading downwind, which means we didn't feel the wind speed near so much as when we were running into the wind. Heading upwind, while I was at the helm (the wheel on this boat was giNORmous, by the way!), I had to put on two extra layers of clothing in order to keep warm against the amount of wind I was feeling.

My top inspirational "OH MY GOSH I'M SAILING" moment today came when we were sailing off of Downtown Seattle and a large ferry passed us astern and I could see all the individual people standing at the back of the ferry looking down on us. It was a liberating -- as well as somewhat smug -- feeling, similar to being in the carpool lane and breezing past long lines of stopped traffic in the regular lanes. One of those times when you want to call out, "So long, suckers!" or something like that. One of those times you've experienced in your life where you've gone, "I wish I was THEM!" and then you realize, "Oh wait, today I AM!" :)

Today I was ON that 42 foot sailing yacht, crewing and pulling lines and steering at the helm. No more "Wish I could." I'm doing it. I'm LIVING it!

I could get addicted to this

Evening air, it seems, is definitely better than Sunday morning air! And maybe my sailing mojo isn't so bad after all.

I sailed again two nights ago. It was a great evening!

The temperatures were record high that day, near 90. It was a blessed relief to arrive at the marina just before 6:00 and immediately feel the cooling breeze coming off of the water.

It was a full boat - five of us on board. We were: yours truly, the skipper (Dale), my sailing buddy (Donna), a guy ("P") who Donna and I sailed with once last month out of Shilshole Marina near Seattle, and a new guy ("R") who was a fellow member of our sailing class. It was a bit crowded, but we all worked together pretty well. Aside from the fact that P and R had a penchant for standing shoulder to shoulder in the cockpit facing the bow (that's the front of the boat :), completely blocking the view ahead. Ah, guys - it's hard to steer when I can't see where I'm going! Blind helmsman (woman) here driving the boat!

The winds were decent, though less than Dale expected. He'd put up the smaller "jib" instead of the larger "genoa" as the head sail (as opposed to the mail sail). Weather forecasts had led him to believe the winds would be stronger, so he wanted to reduce sail area to keep the boat more manageable - thus the smaller jib. But then the winds didn't end up being that strong, nor the water that rough. Still, we moved, which was pleasant and gratifying.

I'm still waiting for "exhilirating," which is how I suspect that I'll really love sailing. But moving - actual power under sail - was still really a good feeling.

Donna said it perfectly for both of us when she remarked that this night was the first time on the boat where she actually felt halfway competent. (Dale had noted that she looked more relaxed behind the wheel.) (His boat has a wheel instead of a tiller, by the way.) That's how I felt this time, too. Halfway competent. Or at least, not entirely incompetent, for once. We all took turns "tailing" and "wenching" - part of attending to and adjusting the sails as we changed the boat's direction and "tacked" back and forth through the wind.



There's an incredible amount of force running against the sails on a boat of this size (24 feet, if I remember correctly, or maybe it's 28?), far far more than I experienced 10 years or so ago when I sailed little wooden dingies out on Lake Union! I'm finding that I struggle to translate my muscle and wind memory, which I still retain from that time, to a much bigger vessel.

Dale is a patient host and sailing educator. He made sure that we each took a decent long turn at the helm. Steering the boat is challenging! The current, wake from other boats, not to mention the ever-changing and elusive wind on the sails. The rudder and any minor turn you make to the wheel makes far more of a change to the boat's direction than do minor corrections at the wheel of a car. Nevermind such intricacies as running downwind with the jib poofed out to one side of the boat and the main sail poofed out to the other side. I'm glad I wasn't at the helm to embarass myself trying to keep THAT going. (As it was, I started to get a little queasy during "P's" learning time at the helm in that situation.) There's a nautical name for running with the sails this way but I can't remember it right now. So many terms for nautical things...

It was nice to find the skipper trusting me a bit more with his boat on this trip. He had me take the helm first, and last, and once or twice more while we were out. On our return trip to the marina, he left me at the helm much longer than I expected, actually having me motor all the way down the river and into the marina itself. He only finally took over just before we arrived at his dock.

Dale keeps careful care of his boat, which is part of what makes it nice to sail with him. I've learned a lot of his routine for closing up the boat and putting it to bed, such as how to put all the canvas covers over the main sail, the helm, the dodger, and so on. On this particular night I also learned how to "swab the deck." Yes, seriously. :) Not with a mop, as you might imagine, but with a long-handled brush and a bucket of soapy water.

Overall it was a great evening. Deck swabbing notwithstanding, I think I could live this life...