BLACK HAND CREW

Excerpt from the LETTERS section in Latitude 38, December, 1997

SAILING FROM SEATTLE TO SAN FRANCISCO

We're planning to sail our boat from the Seattle area to San Francisco Bay in September of next year. Having limited sailing experience – and no experience whatsoever on sailboats on the high seas – we're looking for information and advice as to the conduct of our passage. -- Mike Denham -- Sequim, Washington

Mike – When they teach people to ski, they start them out on bunny slopes rather than "double diamonds". Because the chilly coasts of Washington Oregon and Northern California are subject to abrupt changes in weather, very strong winds and huge seas, they constitute one of sailing's "double diamonds". What makes it worse is that there are few ports of refuge along these coasts, and most can't be reached without crossing a dangerous river bar. Over the years we've talked with many folks from the Northwest who've done long cruises or even circum- navigations. More than a couple have told us that their trip from Seattle to San Francisco was the most frightening and dangerous part of their entire voyage. Then there are those who simply put their boats up for sale as soon as they reached San Francisco. In our opinion, you have two intelligent options: The first is to gradually ease yourself into ocean sailing while in the Pacific Northwest, then make arrangements to have a couple of experienced ocean sailors accompany you on the passage down to San Francisco. The second is to have your boat trucked to San Francisco, where you can slowly get an ocean education through short trips to the Potato Patch and Farallon Islands. Understand that first ocean experiences are critical to anyone's long term enjoyment of ocean sailing. If somebody is petrified by a brutal first ocean experience, it's very possible they'll never recover. So for both your safety and enjoyment, don't teach yourself ocean sailing off the coasts of Washington and Oregon. By the way, we think you'll be interested in the following letter – which describes an average passage from Seattle south.

WE DECIDED TO CALL THE COAST GUARD

My wife Penny and I left Seattle on September 7 aboard her Cascade 36 Mai Tardis and 22 days later sailed into San Francisco Bay. We – and our three boats – are currently at Oyster Point Marina, where Penny used to live before we got married. With all our boats together – we also have a Coastal Mansion Barracuda houseboat and my 35-ft Chris Craft center-cockpit sailboat. This means – hint, hint – at least one can be used for visitors.

Our trip down the coast – I’ve been sailing for 20 years and Penny for seven – started out well enough. We left Neah Bay and entered the open Pacific, at which point the boat’s jerky motion was enough to leave both of us feeling queasy. Then the wind came up enough for our windvane, "Handy Andy", to steer. He proved to be a valuable member of the crew, steering with flawless precision in all sailing conditions. Thus passed the first two days.

The third and fourth days of our trip found us with lots of sun and no wind. Two days of that were followed by a falling barometer and increasing winds, se we rejoiced in the opportunity to sail once again. As the wind continued to build, however, the sailing conditions began to deteriorate. First we reefed the main, then we dropped the jib. Soon the prediction of 40 knot winds was not just fulfilled but exceeded. Fifty miles off shore at the time, we thought it more prudent to head toward shore than be blown further out.

When the winds reached an estimated 60 knots and the seas 20 feet, we called the Coast Guard to ask what kind of weather we might expect closer to shore. We were 38 miles offshore at the time, not in immediate danger, and had a stout boat with all the safety equipment. They reported 10 knots of wind and three foot seas along the coast! When we advised them of the conditions we were in, they asked our intentions. "I plan to bring this sucker in!" I responded. They estimated it would take us 10 hours.

We started the diesel and were able to motorsail at as much as 10.5 knots with our autopilot steering. The boat was pounding hard and taking breaking waves. Looking forward, I realized that we had the jib and two lines dragging in the water. As I worked my way forward to clean up the foredeck, the lee rail was continuously underwater. It wasn’t good to be out in those conditions.

As I worked to bring the sail and lines back aboard, I realized that one of the lines hanging overboard was a 50-foot dockline. One end was cut, which means it no doubt had gotten snagged in the prop. No wonder the diesel had been so reluctant to start – the prop was fouled with 14 feet of line.

Chilled and exhausted from the exertion on the bow, Penny insisted that I go below. While below, the Coasties called to establish a 30-minute radio watch and to confirm our position and condition. I wedged myself in at the companionway steps and was talking to the Coast Guard when the starboard side port went black. Our boat was taking a big knockdown! My head got banged and then I was violently thrown to the other side of the boat where I got my face smashed.

Penny had been in the cockpit, but was saved from injury by the stainless steel dodger frame – which did get smashed. Fortunately, she was tethered to the boat and never even lost her seat.

The Cost Guard had lost radar contact and radio contact with us at that time and feared the worst. But our sturdy little boat came through unharmed. We continued on for six more hours and finally reached the coast. By this time the coastal winds were all the way up to 25 knots – which felt like a light breeze to us! The Coasties had a boat waiting for us, and after circling us to check our condition, led us in to Coos Bay, Oregon. We soon found a slip at nearby Charleston Harbor. The Coast Guard’s radio contacts and other assistance really helped our morale during trying circumstances: we thank them.

We laid over for repairs to ourselves, our boat, and our gear – and for a weather window. During the first couple of days I admit to having looked at a few Rvs. But after a week of enjoying our stay and the fine people we met, we were eager to get out to sea once again. The rest of our trip to San Francisco was uneventful – in part because of the fact that I’d installed a radar. -- Rick and Penny Rienks -- South San Francisco

Readers – Rick and Penny met while sailing their own boats in the Northwest. "Penny is a retired federal law enforcement pistol packin’ mama" says Rick. "On our first date we went sailing. When we spent our second date cleaning guns together, I knew it was love. I didn’t even care if she could cook – but she can!"

Rienks had this advice for anyone contemplating a similar passage from Seattle to San Francisco: "Inland and protected water sailors must realize that the motion is much different offshore in the Northwest. The motion beats you up and wears you out so it’s easy to get hurt. For those without much experience, either take experienced crew or truck your boat to San Francisco. Because our first trip had been so hard, because the season was getting late, and because of the uncertainty of El Nino, we ended up having my 35-ft sailboat trucked down."

Return to the Black Hand Crew Story

This site was last updated 07/09/08