The calm, clear anchorage from the night before transformed into the morning to a dense fog. We picked our way past the boats we remembered parked next to us the night before, toward the ferry dock, and from there toward shore and the dinghy dock. Port Townsend is a, land rich in native, settler and maritime history,
Our shore arrival coincided with the start of the annual wooden boat festival. We didn’t plan the time it would’ve taken to make attending the festival worthwhile, but lingered around the event’s cordoned off edges, like noses pressed up against a window. We needed to press on, unsure how much extra time we might need to allow to pick our way through fog to reach our next destination, Roche Harbor, San Juan Island.
But first, Wayne craved a hot dog. He was in luck.
Wayne’s a simple guy, and the plain all-beef frank from Dogs A Foot delivered. Succulent and juicy, bypassing the gluten-free bun for the crispy outside soft inside
worth-a-cheat wheat. Spicy wench that I am, the andouille called. Delish as it was, Wayne got the better deal.
We waddled back to the dinghy, and motored back to the boat in the still-thick fog.
Despite our many thousands of miles sailing, this was only our second experience sailing in fog. Chris and Chris are far more experienced, and put their radar and AIS (both to spot other boats) to good use. We got a couple of good jolts nonetheless due to visibility of less than 1/8th of a mile and boats with sketchy/no AIS signal and radar profile.
Wayne and Chris(tine) both spotted the quick flick of a charcoal-colored fin of a harbor porpoise in time for us to see see it once more before it swam off.
Finally, after hours of relying on both instruments and diligent eyeballing, we sailed out of the for just as we approached the San Juan Island Lime Kiln Lighthouse. The curtain of fog swept away, we could see the Olympics and the mountains of British Columbia. A good way to end our passage into Roche Harbor, San Juan Island.