When we’re talking to people and they’re observing the admirable strength-to-weight ratio of Mrs. Perils and our son, they cast a doubtful glance at me and ask, “So, do you rock-climb, too?” To which I reply, “No, I’m a sea kayaker.” The sad fact is, however, that I hadn’t been out in my boat at all this year, until Saturday.
An online group I subscribe to posted a triangular trip, launching at Mukilteo (on Puget Sound north of Seattle), crossing to Clinton on Whidbey Island, south to what I think is called Glendale Landing, then back across to Mukilteo. As rusty as I was, I resolved to drive up there and participate if the weather wasn’t too much of a challenge. One attraction: there had been sightings of grey whales near that passage, stopping in the area to feed during their spring migration north.
I was concerned about being the weakest link and a drag on the group. When I arrived, there was no - absolutely none - wind, and the water was dead flat, so I was comfortable with the idea of separating from the group if I just couldn’t keep up.
Here’s the route we took - counterclockwise from the right - about 7 miles total.
Click any photo to enlarge
Here’s the trip leader, a dear fellow and seasoned paddler from the Boston area, discussing navigation techniques prior to our embarking. We had a mild north-to-south current that would tend to push us off of our bearing if we didn’t correct for it. On a flat sea where you can see your destination clearly, it’s not as big a deal as if you’re dealing with swells or haze that would obscure points on the shore. Not that I know enough about this to avoid a “Life of Pi”-style voyage. I don’t have a compass or a GPS, so I guess I have some shopping, and learning, to do.
And those aren’t some sort of rococo codpieces these guys are sporting - they’re sprayskirts that snap around the rim of the kayak’s cockpit to form a reasonably watertight seal.
That’s a Washington state ferry in the background below. We stayed well south of its cross-Sound lane.
Here we look like a hostile boarding party. We’re waiting for the ferry to dock in Clinton before we cross behind it on our way to a beach and lunch-stop.
Here’s the Life of Pi view of the ferry from the vantage point of “just about to be crushed by its hull and julienned by its propellers”. It’s actually approaching its dock, headed in the opposite direction. It was interesting maneuvering in its propwash, sort of like crossing multiple eddy lines.
We saw nary a spout on the whale-watch front. We found out, however, that a few hours after we hauled out, some greys did scoot through the area, as espied by Janet from Mukilteo Musings as she and her husband ate King Crab Saturday evening.
As it turned out, I had enough in the tank to keep up with the group, which was especially gratifying as we had to pull against a mild current on the last leg of the trip. As placid as it was, you can’t really see the current, you just notice that you’re pulling pretty hard, thinking of calzones and beer at a restaurant just uphill from the launch, but the shore, and those navigation points you’ve triangulated, just aren’t moving very fast, if at all. An average kayaker can sustain about 3 knots (no handicap unless you sneak a trolling motor along), and then you subtract, or add, the current. It’s demoralizing watching moms with strollers breezing by you on shore in one of these situations.
The restaurant in Mukilteo ended up being closed, and that marinara tang I’d been anticipating caused drool to mingle with my tears as we stared at the lit but empty cafe. We ended up stopping at a Greek place on the way out of town, which had a gyro-style calzone, so the day was saved after all.
