The Start of Summer

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We moved down mainland British Columbia pretty quickly. Not without excitement, we caught our first salmon! Trolling off the sailboat, under sail, no less. It was awesome. We pulled up a YouTube video, filleted our prize, froze three-quarters, and turned the rest into a salmon curry soup. A very satisfying first.

In Port McNeil we rented a car and left the boat for about a week to attend Emma and Grant’s wedding and reconnect with friends on land. A quick drive through Seattle gave us the chance to pop in on familiar faces and even drop our cat, Loops, with some loved ones for safekeeping. Mason and I met Grant on the college sailing team, and it was a privilege to celebrate his marriage to Emma. She baked the cake herself (and then ate it too), and we spent the evening trading stories about “life with Grant.” The conclusion was unanimous: while you might not always see it in the moment, Grant cares deeply about connecting with friends. And his punctilious ways, while seemingly irritating at times, do have a way of making life easier for the people around him. He’s deeply in love with Emma, and that love was written all over the weekend.

Our time on land was a gift, but slipping back into boat life reminded us why we’re out here. The west coast of Vancouver Island has our hearts. The place feels like our hometown waters of the Puget Sound, but much wilder. For the first time this season, it even feels like summer. Alaska is beautiful, but it sure is cold! As we hop down the coast, the wind and waves have finally been behind us, pushing us along instead of fighting us. We even spotted a mola mola for the first time, a prehistoric-looking giant drifting lazily at the surface. The Busby Islands and Rugged Point anchorage were a true highlight. 

And the fishing streak continued: numerous rockfish and another salmon, again under sail. We deep fried the rockfish, filleted the salmon with YouTube still close at hand, and celebrated with full bellies.

Now we’re in Tofino, preparing for our first major offshore passage in this boat, from the Pacific Northwest to San Francisco. This 700 nautical mile stretch is notorious due to geographic features and weather patterns. So what makes the Pacific coast so challenging?

On the Atlantic US coast, prevailing winds blow offshore, while currents push waves toward land. Those waves roll onto a wide, sloping continental shelf, which dampens their energy before they reach there shore. Additionally, harbors are close together, making it easy to hop in and out for shelter.

On the Pacific side, the opposite is true. The prevailing winds and waves run in the same direction, allowing enormous swells to build across thousands of miles. They crash onto a steep, narrow continental shelf, rebound, and collide with the next incoming swell, creating the chaotic seas this coastline is famous for. The California Current also funnels cold Alaskan water all the way down to Baja, fueling frequent upwellings that stir the sea state into further confusion. Add in heavy following winds, a steady blanket of fog, and notorious corners like Cape Mendocino, where the wind whips around the land and underwater canyons stir up rogue waves, and you start to understand why this passage has such a reputation.

It may seem counterintuitive, but shelter from this kind of sea state is often found further offshore in deeper water. Mariners sail 30–100 miles out to escape the crashing and rebounding of waves against the coast. Unlike the East Coast, where you can duck into a harbor every 30 miles, the Pacific demands bigger jumps. Spending an entire day working your way in and out of rugged, bar-guarded harbors often isn’t worth it, especially when those same miles could be covered offshore. For this reason, many sailors make the long jump directly from the Pacific Northwest to San Francisco.

Preparation, then, is everything. We’re checking weather multiple times a day, studying forecasts and sea state models, and plotting contingencies. I’ve been meal prepping comfort meals we can throw in the oven or on the stove. Lasagna, gumbo, and tortellini soup now occupy our freezer space. In case heating up precooked meals demands too much of us, a cooler with PB&J, protein bars, and Pedialyte will be within easy reach in the cockpit. Outfitting-wise, we’ve rigged a boom preventer, collapsed our dinghy, and practiced raising the storm sails. Mason even updated our live tracking after receiving requests from viewers who wanted live telemetry: boat speed, wind speed, and engine RPMs.

Our plan is to sail to Neah Bay, WA, the very northwest corner of the Olympic Peninsula, where we’ll pick up our lucky third crew member and dear friend, Sydney Thompson.

There’s solace in the boat. Discovery has proven herself again and again, even in rough conditions. At the end of the day, it’s our bodies and minds that will fail before she does. This passage feels like the true test we’ve been building toward all summer. With that trust, and with the right preparation, we’re ready to take on this next big leap south. Cali baby, here we come!