3,000 MILES COMPLETED!

Picturesque Cape Flattery, a few short miles north of Makah Bay, marked the entrance to Juan de Fuca Strait and on Monday, August 8th we set out at dawn and headed towards Tatoosh Island and the unique headland of Cape Flattery, turning right into Juan de Fuca Strait.

Approaching Tatoosh Island and Juan de Fuca Strait.

Rugged west coast views greeted us everywhere.

Though we weren’t quite home, we high fived and hugged each other after we anchored in Neah Bay. Surprisingly, neither of us had any overwhelming feelings though we were both very happy at having made this significant accomplishment.

Cape Flattery...low mist and haze swirled around the base of the rock.

It was July 2011 when we first set our goal to cruise to Mexico and maybe beyond. Two years from initial planning and working on boat projects before three years of reaping the benefits and experiencing our wonderous adventures on and off the water.

After a couple of very quiet days in Neah Bay we sailed to Port Angeles.  The sky was blue with wispy clouds and an afternoon breeze to cool things down.   Leaving Neah Bay and heading for Port Angeles signaled a couple of significant changes.  Gone were the night passages and the swells were lessening.

Daily fog flowing into Neah Bay

The Olympic Mountains loomed above thick forested slopes. Sadly, the once year round snow capped mountains were almost bare. There was a familiar crispness in the air that felt fresh and alive.

As we neared Port Angeles mid afternoon we saw a mirage along the shoreline to the north.  In the radiating heat of summer, Victoria’s distant skyline was stretched and elongated as heat waves shimmered above the ocean’s surface. That’s when I realized I wasn’t ready to go back across the border yet.  Jim felt the same way.

Mount Baker towered above the clouds to the east and more protected waters beckoned us to keep travelling towards the San Juan Islands. We sailed gently east to Sequim’s well protected harbour for one night before crossing a lumpy Juan de Fuca Strait and heading into the San Juan Islands, 25 miles to the north.

Light house on spit near Sequim, Wa.

Back in 'our' islands.

The American San Juan Islands and Canadian Gulf Islands are one archipelago, except for the invisible border line dividing them. They’re both amazingly picturesque treasures of the Pacific Northwest with hundreds of small protected anchorages scattered amongst the dozens of islands that offer so much to coastal cruisers.  Though we absolutely loved cruising in Mexico, this is different.

Washington State Ferry goes into the San Juans

The treed cliff side hides four houses on Lopez Island

Reflections of the evening sun

These are our cruising grounds, the coastline with so many cruising memories, beaches where we watched spectacular sunsets, passages where we waving at kayakers and fellow cruisers, anchorages where we silently spied on a heron perched fishing for dinner.

Full moon on Lopez Island

We began cruising the southern bays of Lopez Island then worked our way to horseshoe-shaped Orcas Island before turning east towards Mount Baker and mooring in the Town of Anacortes for an evening before venturing up the eastern side of San Juan Island where we spotted two pods of orca whales.

We anchored near Garrison Bay for three nights during the hottest summer weather.  I wanted to revisit Garrison Bay where the historic English Camp stood.  There were still a few buildings open to the public and well manicured gardens but it was too hot to walk up to the top of Mount Young.

The gardens at the English Fort, Garrison Bay - San Juan Island

These are the colours we love.

Crabbing was popular in Wescott Bay where dozens of recreational traps cluttered the narrow channel.  After a few hours at anchor we were conscious of the constant drone from seaplanes and fishing runabouts zooming across Westcott Bay.  No more quiet secluded anchorages for us!  Kids splashed and played while others meandered through the forest near the old English Fort.

After a week in the San Juan Islands we both began to shift gears from being full time cruisers working our way home to almost being home.  We both felt emotional while we peered into the crystal ball to see what our next step entailed.

We cleared into Canada in Sidney on Sunday, August 22nd and tied up at North Saanich Marina.  Our log registered 3,000 just outside the docks.  How's that for amazing!  It was an extremely hectic week, but one made tolerable when we could come back to Falcon's view of Tsehum Harbour.

Our trip log clicked on 3000 just outside Tsehum Harbour, Sidney, BC.

Tsehum Harbour - View from Falcon at dawn

Weekly dinghy races and daily sailing camps were run to watch.

Our immediate plans include cruising to Ladysmith, the Sunshine Coast and Vancouver during September then mooring back to the Inner Harbour in Victoria for the winter months. Then what?  We’re not sure.

Today we're anchored off of Russell Island only 45 minutes from Sidney and very near to Salt Spring Island.  This was our starting point on August 20, 2016.  We came here from Sidney for two days to rest before heading south to start our Mexican adventure. So this feels like the ending point to me.

Russell Island, with fog looming in the background.

In our home waters again.

In fact, I openly wept when we turned to starboard and I saw the anchorage for the first time in over three years.  I didn’t realize how much I missed being here!  It represents peace and serenity today as I reflect on the last three years. So much has happened including the birth of our beautiful grandson and the death of my amazing mom.

One of the things I’m most proud of is my increased confidence in my skills as a cruiser.  I can handle night watches without thinking about calling Jim for a thing.  I can navigate successfully and handle the sails by myself when necessary.  I can launch the dinghy alone and anchor in any adverse conditions Mother Nature can throw at me.  But I am only one half of the Bowen team, the Falconians as our friends Tom and Bobbi like to call us.

We Falconians stick together.  We’re a team.  I’ve learned to be more flexible and easy going and that compromise is positive. We can work out answers to challenges. I’ve re-affirmed my love to Jim, who is with me every step of this journey called life.  Without his constant love, care and support I don’t think I would have done this trip.  His attention to small details, his ear for strange sounds in the night and his finely honed dish drying skills all helped to make our passages as easy and safe as possible.  I love our time together, whether it’s playing Scrabble in the evening or anchoring in 30 knots of wind in a rolly anchorage.  We did it together and I am forever grateful.

Jim’s final thoughts…
It’s August 29, early afternoon.  We’re anchored off the rocky shores of Russell Island, just north of Sidney.  I’m sitting in the cockpit - warm from the sun’s rays streaming down on us out of the clear blue sky.

I just thought to myself as I looked across Falcon’s bow toward luscious green hills and sparkling blue water, “Wow! This is paradise.”

What I have learned in the past three years and 9,000 miles is that paradise can be wherever I am. Yes, certainly white sand beaches, turquoise waters and palm fronds waving in the breeze and yes, the beauty which surrounds me as I type this.  But also, if I am careful to look closely enough to see what is there - paradise can be the moment I am in right now.

The thing that I am the most thankful for is that I got to do this trip with the perfect partner. There is only one thing better than being in paradise, and that is to be in paradise with someone as incredible as Trish. We spend almost literally all of our time together and yet 99 point something percent of the time, things go along with complete harmony. Without Trish’s contribution, I would have had none of these amazing adventures.  From day one with us, it’s always been 50/50 - we each contribute half to achieve our goals.  So Thank You Trish, I love you.

So - that’s my short wrap up for our (Trish’s mostly) blog.  Plans and ideas for our next adventures are rolling around in both our heads, but for now we are heading north till Oct. 1 when we return to the inner harbour in Victoria.

Peace,

Jim and Tricia Bowen
S/V Falcon VII

WHAT WERE WE THINKING!!!

My feet are cold!  I have to put on an extra sweater and yoga pants. There’s an extra blanket on my side of the bed. What’s with that!

Boy am I wining! LOL. Well, that's part of living in the Pacific Northwest and preferable to sweating all day in Mexico’s extreme summer heat.  The heat and humidity were the reasons we wanted to bring Falcon home to more moderate temperatures; we realized that it’s easier to put clothes on when you’re cold than it is to take more clothes off when you’re hot! Adjustments!  We have it soooo hard!

On Friday, August 5, 2016 we were up before sunrise to time our departure from the Columbia River with the start of the ebb tide, which gave us a welcome push out to open water.  Crab traps were hard to spot but Jim managed extremely well after our run in with one two weeks before.  He had first watch for two hours so I headed down to the settee to nap til my watch.  Easier said than done!  By the boisterous movements of Falcon as she leaped forward like a racehorse, I knew we were flying through the water.  Later Jim confirmed that we hit 11.9 knots at one point while we exited the confines of the channel.

Once free of the Columbia River we turned north and had a quiet, short day motoring to Westport Marina in Gray’s Harbor, a busy fishing community and popular coastal tourist destination.

Familiar wildlife like river otters and sea lions, seals and turtles seemed to greet us as we passed.  We began to spot more humpback whales, often just swimming leisurely along the surface of the water, go gently.

We arrived at Westport Marina just before noon and immediately headed out find the most popular fish and chips restaurant along the main drag, and it turned out to be right across the street from the massive marina.  Ten to fifteen people were constantly lined up to place their orders. Normally we don’t line up for food but it was worth it!  Jim had the freshest halibut fish and chips done in a thin tasty crunchy batter and I had a fresh spinach, apples, sunflower seed and cranberry salad, dripping in a mandarin vinaigrette.  We enjoyed each mouthful and then Jim somehow found room for an ice cream cone afterwards! What a guy!

We spent the rest of the afternoon changing the engine oil and walking around the Westport waterfront.  Many people were sitting on the docks in deck chairs waiting for crabs to enter their traps, which were simply tossed into the water from the docks. Entire families clustered around little tables of snacks, kids fished with their miniature toy rods and parents chatted with other perched crabbers while they waited.  Amazing that the crabbing industry is so healthy with so many people fishing it.

We were up before dawn on Sunday, August 7th . It was a particularly dark, misty morning so we waited a half hour til we could safely see enough to spot crab traps just outside the marina entrance. The whole day was overcast and slightly misty but we were happy because conditions were extremely flat.  The swells were barely noticeable and the hours flew by while we chatted excitedly about reaching the end of our journey home.

Looking towards Cape Flattery from Makah Bay.

Before dusk we anchored in tree lined Makah Bay just south of Cape Flattery.  Makah Bay, a centuries old aboriginal settlement, would have had everything going for it - the bountiful sea, thick forests, juicy berries, accessible edible roots. Seasonal paradise!  The Makah Museum at Neah Bay is full of fascinating artifacts from the area.  I yearned to go ashore but the dinghy was in travel mode and we were tired.

Our last night "outside' in a rolly anchorage at MaKah Bay.

As darkness descended I heard a loon calling not far away.  What a lovely sound! It was then we remembered that this was our last night on ‘the outside’.  More in the next posting.

THE LAST WORD

For over 30 years I lived on the same property as my Mom.  Jim and I shared the property with her for 20 years. We saw each other almost every day and were very close.  In the last few years my Mom’s favourite bit of advice to Jim and me was “Travel while you’re still young and you have your health.”  We always agreed with her. She often repeated those words to us and supported our horizon fever affliction.  We will always cherish the last time she told us those words.

It was mid March, five  months ago, late at night in the hospital.  We had just flown into Victoria from Mexico to be with Mom since her heart was giving out and she was slipping away. She awoke when we arrived and was so happy to see us, even though it was the middle of the night.  We chatted quietly for almost an hour. She was lucid, funny and in good spirits.  She even joked with Jim because he kept nodding off in his chair at the foot of her bed.  She told us that it was good that we were travelling while we were young and we still had our health.

Since other patients were sleeping, the nurse urged us to continue our visit in the morning.  Mom squeezed both our hands tightly and looked directly up into our eyes and adding “I am so proud of the two of you”.  Precious words.  We kissed her goodnight and tiptoed out. By the morning she had lost her ability to speak and then she slept more and more. She passed away peacefully on Saturday evening, March 19th while I held her hand and wept.

I tell you this because Mom was a big part of our journey in life together and our cruising adventures. She was always supportive of us taking off and sailing when we could, sometimes for weekends and sometimes for months on end, like when we cruised to Southeast Alaska.   She had her own adventures over the years and did quite a bit of international travelling but she was happiest in her rowboat.

Mom and second husband Art on a day long sailing adventure in Fiji.

Out sailing on one of our boats years ago.

She happily looked after Timber, her granddaughter the cat, while we were gone since we shared her beachfront property in Victoria.

Cruising on the Aurora Explorer together in 2005.

Years moved forward; Jim and I moved onto Falcon VII and six months later we helped Mom downsize to a wonderful seniors’ facility where her happy disposition soon had her completely absorbed into her new surroundings.  Her short term memory loss was severe and yet she always asked where we were and how we were when we phoned her from Mexico.  She was so interested in our adventure.  We sent her post cards from everywhere, emailed letters to be printed off for her and collected colourful fridge magnets so she could see the places we were visiting.  She really did give us her blessing to sail away from Victoria for an undefined period of time, even though she would miss us.  She knew we needed to continue our cruising adventures.  So, as Jim and I complete the last leg of our journey home, I can’t help but feel Mom’s presence and know that she is here in our hearts, celebrating our accomplishment right along with us.

This adventure has provided us with many life lessons. Our love is stronger and we’re still best friends, even after spending 24/7 together all this time!  We’ve learned more about ourselves, flexibility, gratitude, understanding, curiosity, patience, tolerance, wonder, and acceptance. And by way of example from Mom, the most valuable lesson is that we all have the ability to love and be loved unconditionally. She lived her live that way right until the end.

As we move forward in our gypsy life we’ll continue to embrace each precious moment and to strive to be loved and lovable.  We encourage each of you to do the same and make the world a better place.

This three year blog is dedicated to the memory of my Mom, Olive Lydia Lawson, who loved the ocean as much as we do.

Olive Lydia Lawson  August 27, 1925 - March 19, 2016

Always in our hearts.

Peace.

Tricia and Jim

OREGON COAST TO STARBOARD

After a fairly restful week in Brookings we motored to the town of Port Orford, 58 miles north. Conditions were fairly calm with fog limiting visibility but we did see a handful of sea lions clustered together.  They pushed themselves halfway out of the water to have a good look at us as we motored by. Curious and beautiful creatures! We made good time with a positive current helping us and arrived at Port Orford mid afternoon, though we could barely see the shoreline as we anchored.  The fog toyed with us for the rest of the day, sometimes giving us glimpses of towering rocky outcroppings along the shoreline that Oregon is known for, sometimes only allowing us to hear the waves crashing against that shoreline.

That's a huge fog  bank out beyond the fishboat.

A thick forest of evergreens lined the long gray sandy beach and we felt very much at home in the more northern elements.  A dredging company was operating machinery near a pier, working around the clock to load their barge.  Each time they finished loading they had to tow it into open water and empty the mud and sand before repeating the process again and again.  The bay at Port Orford was a quiet but rolly anchorage that reminded me of our six days rolling side to side while anchored at San Quentin just before we left Mexico in April.

we took most of Tuesday ‘off’ because we were doing another night passage which would put us into Newport, Oregon during daylight when the tide was high enough to enter the shallow harbour.
Towards noon the sun peaked out giving us a beautiful vista of the beach, Highway 101, a little town centre above the cliffs and a smattering of houses surrounding the bay.

I was reading at the settee when I thought I heard someone calling out to us.  Jim went up on deck to investigate and found a teenager with beautiful curly golden hair sitting in his kayak beside Falcon.  He had a bag of blueberries on his lap along with another ziplock carrying something else.  Jim started chatting with 17 year old Kaden, who had seen our boat the day before and, since he was curious and interested in sailing, paddled out to meet us.  Jim invited him aboard and somehow he managed to get out of his kayak and clamber onto our side deck while Falcon rocked from side to side in the ever-present swells.  This polite and curious young man presented me a bulging bag of shiny freshly picked blueberries, which I was extremely thankful for.  We have never had freshly handpicked blueberries before!  The smaller bag contained a piece of pitch wood, which he presented to us as a gift, along with a hand written letter in case we weren’t on board.  He introduced himself formally in the letter. He had obviously talked all this over with his parents as the letter gave both their names and phone numbers at the bottom. He said he hoped we could chat for a while about our cruising experiences. He explained that he taught himself to sail on a friend’s small sailboat and it had peaked his interest.  Since Port Orford had no marina he was determined to acquire sailing experience by driving to nearby towns along the coast that had marinas and sailboats. Since we were leaving mid afternoon, we could only spare a half hour but we showed him around Falcon and answered what questions we could in the short time he was on board.  We gave him our blog info and encouraged him to pursue his dreams.  After clambering back into his kayak without falling in, he waved to us with a big smile on his face as he paddled back towards shore.  We wished him much luck in following his passion.

The night passage was perfect and we arrived into Newport mid morning under cloudy skies.  Newport is a busy town, spread out for miles along Highway 101. A towering bridge joined the south beach community with the commercial marina district, shopping areas and suburbs.  Apparently it didn't make much of an impression on me as I didn't take any photos of Newport.  Sorry.

There were two or three RV parks within a mile of the marina, with RV’s wedged in next to each other like cars in a Safeway parking lot.  As the fog lifted the day warmed up to 70 F while we took a walk.  We found a marina research centre, revitalized warehouses turned into stores and the Fish Tale restaurant where Jim had fresh crab cakes for lunch.  Seems we’d found the local hangout, judging by how full the place was.  We meandered back to Falcon to rest and catch up on our sleep. I usually average a total of three hours of sleep during nigh passages but Jim seldom sleeps when he’s off watch.

As luck would have it cruising friends Fred and Linda from Perla Moon were passing through Newport at the same time as us.  We met in La Paz, Mexico last winter.  They were heading home to to California from Alaska.  Since we were both in town at the same time we met for a nice breakfast together.  Unfortunately our time together was too short because they had a full day of driving ahead of them and we had a dinghy excursion up the Yaquina River planned for ourselves.

The Yaquina River wound through Newport’s waterfront and up into the more rural areas where evergreens lined the river and house boats were scattered along the channels. We passed a huge pulp and paper mill before reaching the little town of Toledo.  We kept going for a few more minutes, exploring right to the end of the Yaquina River, sampling juicy black berries right from the dinghy!

You never know where a pedestrian crossing might be.

Since we’d arrived on the first day of their summer festival we were treated to a chalk art contest in progress all along Main Street. Kids, old and young were on their hands and knees creating wonderful pictures and sending colourful messages out to the universe.  We stopped in at very creative and eclectic store before finding a local restaurant with excellent bbq on the menu.

A waterfront park and marina are both close to Main Street.

We fell in love with this little cutie at the local Toledo dock.

Kids say the cutest things!

Railroad tracks ran right by town.

We found the funkiest store on Main Street, Toledo

Since it was an hour’s run down river to Newport we headed back to the dinghy after our late lunch where we found a cool wind and short waves against us.  Jim helmed steadily back down  river towards Newport and the warmth of Falcon.I wrapped a life jacket around my legs and made a note to myself to dress warmer next time we went on a big dinghy trip!

Once back at Falcon VII we put the dinghy in it’s davits and readied the boat for another overnight passage to Astoria, a city on the Oregon/Washington border that we visited when we left in 2013. That’s where we had a rare OOPS moment…which is explained in the next blog posting.  Until then…

Tricia and Jim Bowen
S/V Falcon VII
email: tandjbowen13@gmail.com.