This morning began in very thick fog. I was in it as soon as I left the dock at Port Harvey, with two large power boats close behind me that I could barely see. By the time I was through the Port Harvey channel and into Johnstone Strait, I could see nothing at all. I motored along, my attention alternating between the purple radar image on the chartplotter screen and the gray water just ahead of me, where floating logs would appear surprisingly quickly because of the reduced visibility. I'd have to quickly turn the wheel to avoid the logs (which are always present in the Pacific Northwest, some quite large, some obviously very old, roaming back and forth with the tidal currents; I can imagine that some have been afloat in the channels for decades). At one point I looked up to see the tall dorsal fin of an Orca surface and quickly disappear, less than 100 feet off the port bow. I let out a "Whoa!" of surprise.

As I passed Fanny Island, the fog began to dissipate and by the time I was through Race Pass, carried along at nearly 10 knots by a swirling current, the fog was gone. The sky was intermittently blue, with one obligatory period of rain. The favorable current stayed with me all the way to Chatham Point, where I turned to head for Thurston Bay.

I anchored, looked around, and realized that the air felt pleasantly warm, almost hot, with no breeze. I switched to a pair of shorts, took off my shirt and shoes, and lay in the sun for the first time this summer. It felt wonderful. I'd expected the air to feel warmer when I'd reached the southeast end of Johnstone Strait; it's always warmer south of the strait. But this really was first day that I've felt like I was in summertime. As evening is falling, a grey cloud cover is returning, so I may be in for some more rain soon, but I'm confident that there is more sunshine in my future.

A couple in a dinghy were passing by and came over to say hello. They'd recognized my boat, and it turns out they moor directly across from me on the same dock at Shilshole. When they learned I'd been single-handing to Alaska, the woman said, "You must be even more ready to talk to other people that we are!". I confessed to being more gregarious than usual when I have the opportunity to chat with someone. We talked for awhile, comparing cruising trips, then wished each other well, and they headed back to their boat. And yes, it is pleasant to have a chance to chat with other folks when opportunities arise on the trip. I'm comfortable being on my own, but I'm not a hermit or recluse. At least not totally.