I walked three miles in the rain the next morning and had Breakfast at the Bella Luna, right by the dock.
The rain turned into fog and, like a silent spectre, Jim's vessel, the High Tithe, slipped out of the late morning gloom to make Suquamish Dock.
I had never met Jim before, only made contact with him through the Puget Sound Sailing Group. He was intrigued by my attempt to do a no-motor crossing of the United States and refused any payment for my passage. Club policy, he said.
He was there with three other members of the group: I.T. guy Ken the diver, who took some great photos that day; Ken's wife "G.G." formerly of Belgium and Canada, who is prone to motion sickness but took some Dramamine and braved the sound to meet me anyway; and Dave the provender provider who not only bought and brought a lot of the food stuffs we ate, but also is involved in low carbon transport sailing to help bring local produce to farmer's markets near the Puget.
They had motored over from the Seattle side of the sound and cut the engines and waited for wind as I came aboard. We waited for hours talking, getting to know each other, and dining on salad and grilled salmon they had just caught on the way over (the salmon that is, not the salad).
But still no wind. The sky was clear and we sat becalmed at Suquamish. Finally Ken offered to row me out to where the wind was. They had a small dingy with them, and with eyes more accustomed to the water could see the wind making the water move differently out 3/4 of a mile or so.
I didn't even know this was a option. "I can row." I said. I'd never been in a dingy before (or sailing), but I had done kayaking and a little canoeing before and I had been white water rafting once years back. I figured they could pick me up when they had wind or if I got in trouble. So I borrowed a life vest, they gave me some pointers, and off I went.
As I was rowing, a seal surprised me by popping his head up about ten feet behind me. He looked at me for a second and then disappeared. It gave me a weird feeling, wondering what was below me in the murky waters.
They say I made about half a mile in short order when the wind picked up. They let out the sails, turned off the motors, and brought me aboard.
What followed was uplifting. We veered, and tacked, and tilted to zigzag into the wind. The day was clear and the Puget was calm. I could smell the salt, and my aching joints became a distant memory. I think Jim sad the wind was over 15 knots but I can't exactly recall. Everything was wind, and water, and sunlight.
We veered around big cruise ships and smaller fishing boats. They even let me steer at one point, though I only worked the wheel, not the sails.
A few hours later, they cast me off in the dingy again so that they could motor into the marina (its against he rules to have a sail up in a marina). I waited a bit and then rowed the short distance to shore. They took pictures of me coming in.
They fed me again and Jim offered to let me sleep on the boat that night since it was getting dark. I wanted to, but I had 21 miles to make through Seattle before I made it back to David and Gina's place. I wanted to make it there the next day but didn't want to do all 21 miles in one go. I knew I could, but if I started limping again I figured it would be way after dark before I got there. I didn't want to come knocking at David and Gina's at one in the morning, so I opted to make a few more miles that evening after sailing. I marched through Seattle and settled into a hostel about four or five miles later. It was a good day.
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