even more impressive to think this was not as much as the Straits could throw at you. If it were a westerly gale and the tide was at max ebb, things would have been much more severe. And, as anyone who sails around

here knows, the waves were steep. One of them reared up behind so steep it seemed like it would break into the cockpit. This is the first time I’d ever stood up on Korrigan and not been able to see over the tops of the waves. Even as far up as James Island the waves were still big and steep. From a distance it looked as if one of the San Juan ferry boats turned back in the face of having waves inundate the front deck. I couldn’t imagine the cars wouldn’t be covered in green water and pushed back into the cars behind them. Eventually, I got into some shelter,

started the engine, dropped the jib and headed into Peavine Pass (between Blakely and Obstruction Islands) to pick up the buoy in front of my uncle’s house. I felt pretty beat up and little bit shell shocked. Just going up and down the companionway ladder was a 5.9 climbing move in those conditions. I tried to stand and enjoy the view

With puffs in the high 50s and lulls in the low 40s, after a while, 48 to 52 knots of wind became my comfort zone, and a peak to 59 seemed like a story to tell.

through the big stuff but would be knocked on my ass again and again from the steep waves and forgotten sea legs. Given time the motion would become normal and require little energy, but for a weekend warrior some time away from the last such experience, I felt like someone put me in a box and shook it. Coming into Obstruction Island

I misjudged the back eddy from the powerful current flowing through the pass and let the boat get pushed right over the buoy which hung up briefly on the rudder, giving me a myriad of sudden nightmares. But no harm, the buoy popped out and I kicked some reverse to get back to it and tied up. Turns out my uncle and his family

were home and waved from the deck. He came down to inform me of the obvious, that I’m crazy, and I gave him a quick report. I spent the night bobbing in a southwesterly then, tired of it all,

I headed out early in the morning to get behind Blakely Island and drink some coffee in peace, hoping the south easterly would punish me today. The next day was a mixture of fun,

relaxing sailing in nice leftover waves and some more tedious windward sailing trying to make tracks down Admiralty Inlet. Since my mainsail is damaged from when my friend Mike and I were practice jibing in 25 knots of wind, there is only the triple reef and it’s slow. The solution, of course, was to put up the #3 or #1, but I was too lazy and sure I’d have to take it down again later, which was true. Add in a fair amount of motoring, and after 13 hours I was back in Seattle. Of course, a halfhour from home, several heavy ice cold rain showers reminded me once again of the general disdain in which the universe holds me. In response I screamed into the rain and gathering darkness, sure that not only can no other human hear me, but neither can the universe, which really doesn’t care. Nor does it really matter; I just needed to persevere through this freezing hell for a little while and I’ll soon be relaxing in the utterly complete comfort that most of us live daily. So there it is. I’d always wanted to

sail in a big southeast gale all the way to the San Juans. It took me eight hours to get there, but it could have been much faster if I’d carried more sail throughout the day. However, I don’t have roller furling or any of that, so it’s a bit of an effort to change sail when it gets rough. It was fun times and I’d love to do

it again. My boat was made for it and I was in complete control the whole time, as I sail up there in gales fairly often. Next time, however, I’ll carry more sail and when the poo hits the fan, I’ll send “the crew” up to get the #4 down and the storm jib up. The next intriguing idea is to see

what it’s like in the Strait of Juan de Fuca in 50+ knots of wind, even though one would often have to concede defeat at trying to go to windward in those conditions. I’ve still yet to get out there in a big westerly. I’ll work that one out eventually as well. It’s just a matter of timing and luck with the winds.

48° N

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