Confused Seas

I wish that was a metaphor for life and, as you know, I could and probably will work it into some sort of theme - but this time, I literally plan on writing about what is called 'confused seas'.

We had to take our boat up to Anacortes from Seattle on Saturday. The weather was calling for S 10-20 knot winds building in the afternoon to SE 20-30 kt. Cloudy, cold and the currents along our course weren't looking any better.

Here's the thing - I own a boat that has a higher tolerance rate than me. My co-captain has a higher comfort level than me. But we had to get the boat out of the boatyard and tucked into it's slip up in Anacortes before winter. So off we went.

We were out of the small locks by 9am and began the slow trek up into Admiralty Strait. This is an area due north of Port Townsend and just south of Whidbey. We knew that the max flood tide (coming into Puget sound) was at 12:30 and was going to be close to 4 knots. We run at about 8 knots - so the passage would be slow. What we also have read - and have heard tales about - is what happens when the wind is coming in the direct opposite direction as the current. Yeah - confused seas.

Picture this: an area of water perhaps half a mile across where there are standing waves 6-8 ft deep from top of the swell to the bottom of the trough. The swells are coming from every direction and the white caps are churned, blowing with the wind. The boat slows to about 5 knots (which is about 7mph) and rides one swell only to fall off the next. Falling off - as I know it - means going over from the side, rolling down the trough. There were waves that we rode to the top - the boat slowing to 2 knots and then down we would go at 7-8 kts. This was on and off for about two hours. For the most part we had following seas - even against the current - which certainly made it easier. If we had been going the other direction, our bow would have been buried in the water over and over again.

My co captain was having the time of his life.
S. and her best buddy (along for quite a ride) were taking Dramamine.
I was trying to keep stuff in the cupboards.

I took the helm for a bit of the time and found it fairly hard to last longer than a half hour with the amount of hands on piloting it took. It felt like I was constantly trying to wrest the boat onto a course that was not going to happen. A. explained an interesting way to handle the boat in such waters - later that night. In the moment, I left him at the helm and found a place to hang on.

As we turned out into the Strait of Juan de Fuca, a small craft advisory now in effect, the winds were at our backs and the current heading in our same directions. The deep seas smoothed out to gentle swells and huge dark clouds raced across the sky. Gust of wind rippled across the water but we were protected by the leeward side of the island this time and made our way without incident up into Rosario Strait. Now was the moment to enjoy the sea. We saw porpoises pacing the bow and seagulls feasting on herring. Cold and invigorating and still so beautiful.

Long ago, when we first bought this particular boat, the dealer had smiled and told us that our comfort zone would be challenged long before the integrity of the boat would be. Yesterday I figured out what he meant. I never worried about this full displacement trawler's ability to push through the rough water - I just saw seas that were not my idea of fun or excitement.

My co-captain has different ideas. He and I - we gotta talk.