Southbound
Map of the south Puget Sound--Seattle to Olympia. Not a breath of wind, but the sun is out. In fact, it is downright hot in the cockpit. Our year and a half year old daughter is busy regaining her sea legs. While it is essentially dead calm, the occasional boat wave upsets her fragile sense of balance. The waves are soon declared, “bouncy-bouncy” are accompanied by giggles and falls onto a diaper clad bum.

It is Memorial Day 2001 and we are headed out for a 5-day trip down the South Sound, culminating at Olympia. We angle across Elliott Bay to the north end of Vashon Island and then head down Colvos Passage on the west side of the island. The passage is unencumbered with dangers and we see a few other boaters, mostly headed northbound. The current in Colvos Passage sets northbound on both the flood and ebb, so our progress is somewhat slowed. As we clear the south end of Vashon, the view of Mount Rainier is breathtaking. The 14,410 foot supposedly dormant volcano looks almost unreal. It is so massive it dwarfs Commencement Bay and the Tacoma skyline. After Seattle and Spokane, Tacoma is the third largest city is Washington. If you would like to read more on Mount Rainier and see some good pictures of the mountain, click here for another story on South Sound sailing.

Our goal of course is to utilize the south-setting 5+ knot flood that will be going through the Tacoma Narrows all afternoon and early evening. The current reaches maximum flood at 5:38PM, and we are right on time. This is our first time through the Narrows in the Patience, previously we have only gone south as far as Gig Harbor. The transit is fast and furious. We reach a maximum of 11.6 knots and average 9+ knots for about an hour.

The Narrows gained widespread fame on November 7, 1940 when the Tacoma Narrows suspension bridge collapsed. The bridge opened on July 1, 1940 and motorists quickly nicknamed the bridge “Galloping Gertie”. You can imagine the commuters coming in from Gig Harbor saying their Hail Mary’s and Our Father’s as they drove across the undulating 2,800' center span. The bridge’s rolling, cork-screwing motion was caused by wind catching the suspended plate girders. Things came to a head a mere 4-months after construction when the bridge collapsed in a 42-mile-per-hour windstorm. A new much safer bridge was completed 10-years later. The remains of “Galloping Gertie” remain at the bottom of the Narrows in 220' of water. The remains are on the National Register of Historic Places and are protected from would be salvagers.

Looking southwest at the 'new' Tacoma Narrows Bridge. Fifty years later, the “new” Tacoma Narrows Bridge has been declared inadequate for reasons besides safety. Traffic volumes have increased to such levels that the two-lane suspension bridge is no longer adequate to handle traffic levels. As such, citizens passed a 53% majority advisory vote in 1998 to build a second parallel suspension bridge. The new bridge will be built to the south of the existing bridge and will look similar to the old bridge. The bridge will feature 3-lanes for eastbound traffic and the old bridge will be converted to westbound traffic. Construction is scheduled to begin in 2002 and the bridge is supposed to be open to traffic in 2004 or 2005.

We continue south, staying east of Fox Island. After Toliva Shoal we veer west and head for Balch Passage which allows passage between McNeil Island and Anderson Islands. McNeil Island is a state prison. After we transit, the view back east through Balch Passage is pretty-Mount Rainier looms in the hue of the sunset and three sailboats are rafted up/anchored in the lee of Eagle Island. Daylight is getting short, so we make flank speed to Filucy Bay. Entry to the bay is straight-forward, and we drop the hook in about 40 feet of water in the central part of the bay. All three of us retire below as the last rays of sun fade away. Our anchorage is still and we sleep soundly.

Looking northwest back into Filucy Bay. McDermott Point in foreground, 7,954' Mount Olympus and the Olympic Mountain Range in background. One of my favorite rituals on the boat is poking my head out the companionway every morning. We often arrive at anchorages during the evening when daylight is weaning, and it is always fun to re-assess our choice of anchorage the next morning in the daylight. My favorite morning look-outs are when we have come into a supposedly beautiful anchorage late at night in foul weather and the next morning dawns clear with spectacular scenery.

Looking out the companionway this morning isn’t spectacular (at least as Webster’s defines it), but it is another beautiful, cloud free day. Filucy Bay is chock full of anchored boats, and the marina at Longbranch is equally full. Longbranch Marina has almost 800' of guest moorage but does not accept reservations. The shores of Filucy Bay are lined with houses and cabins.

Looking northwest at Briscoe Point. Olympic Mountain Range and Squaxin Passage in background. We are excited to get to Olympia, so we don’t loiter and quickly get under way. There is a pretty sandspit guarding the south entrance to Filucy Bay on McDermot Point. Several boats are anchored on the east side of the spit. As we leave Filucy Bay, we can see Mount Olympus about 55 nautical miles to the northwest. At 7,954 feet, Mount Olympus is the tallest mountain in the Olympic Mountain Range. We continue south down Drayton Passage, around Devil’s Head and then around Johnson Point. The weather is perfect, except there is not a breath of wind. I watch as several military transports arc over us, headed for McCord Air Force Base. I am unsure if they are C-141 Starlifters or C-5 Galaxy’s, but they all spew a thick trail of black smoke.

Looking south into West Bay. Washington State Capitol and Olympia in background. The sun feels so good I am lulled into a trance-like state of complacency. We continue south down Budd Inlet, lured in by the distant presence of the capital dome. Navigation? Plotting? Who needs that stuff? There are no rocks to run into here! Needless to say I am horrified when I just happen to look at the depth sounder and see that we are in 12' of water! I have almost run us aground on Spoil Bank, just outside of Olympia. A severe course change and speed decrease are in order. I take a quick head-check to see who might have seen my embarrassing navigation blunder and don’t find any immediate observers. Relief! The depth finder nudges up to more acceptable levels at an agonizingly slow rate. Finally, we are back in the dredged channel, out of danger. I pay much closer attention as I navigate us into East Bay. Word to the wise, be careful approaching Olympia.



[On to Exploring Olympia]





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