Sydney and and I woke ~7AM to a stunning Seattle morning. Olympic Mountains were fully out, sea lions were barking from the break wall. The coffee heated our hands and the sunshine warmed our faces as we putted over to the Canal Boatyard. Before we could remove the mast, we had to navigate four obstacles: 1. Ballard Train Bridge, 2. Locks, 3. Ballard Bridge, 4. Backing into the Canal Boatyard slip (narrow).
Working with bridge operators is pretty hilarious in Seattle. Back in Connecticut, the protocol was to hail channel 13 “Bridge to Bridge” and request for passage through. They would gruffly reply back that they had a train coming or open the gate wide open. Here in Seattle, you pull up to the bridge, and sound your airhorn with a long blast followed by a short blast. It feels like honking at a trained professional—direct, a little impatient, and oddly effective.
In comparison, the locks do not even take your call and will scold you for hailing on their channel. However, they are very proactive and communicative when in shouting range.
Sydney and I breezed through our first four obstacles without a scratch. During the mast pull, Syd headed over to a nearby coffee shop while I admired the scene. There were 5 guys working on the job which took a little less than an hour: one to control the crane, one to secure the mast sling, and three others removing all the stations, forestay, and backstay. It was an impressively orchestrated operation – every movement deliberate, every player in sync. The crane operator blasted Andre Rieu, Violá in particular, giving the whole scene the feel of a well-composed symphony, each clang and creak a note in a grand production.
Sydney and I departed around 10:30, feeling naked without our mast. We skirted directly through the bridges without a communication signal to be heard and waved to the locks operators once more. A harbor seal even joined us for our return which seems like a good sign.
I feeling very proud of myself that I navigated the boat smoothly and BACKED IN to a tight slip by myself (without Mason). I’m pretty scarred from my Dad’s & my own docking adventures aboard Frøya. She is a heavy boat built in ’71 that has massive inertia. Docking is infrequent in New England and each encounter was TENSE. Discovery, on the other hand, is quite nimble and as long as you take things slow, you can always reverse and try again.
Even last summer—our second year of boat ownership—I was still hesitant to exit and enter our slip. Today was another vote against my self doubt and I proved to myself I can operate the boat with confidence.
Thanks to Sydney for journeying through the locks with me 🙂
