[I'm posting today's blog tonight, rather than tomorrow, because we'll be leaving tomorrow and as I'm a passage newbie, I'm not sure how much (or how little) time I'll have then.]


[Baby seal and seagull]

Last night was blustery. Scoots pulled on her docklines--first forward, then aft, then forward...--as the strong southeast winds tried to push her off the dock. It was even more windy this morning, which continued throughout the day. We were glad we'd stayed here these extra days, and not been pimped into leaving by the good weather at the beginning of the weekend. All the forecasts still point to a break in the weather tomorrow, when we'll head out to sea.


[Hunkered eagles]


We've spent today doing last-minute tasks that should make our life on passage easier or more comfortable: chopping all the remaining veggies into small pieces that can be added to meals; setting up the aft cabin, where we'll be sleeping while underway, as it should bounce around less than the forward cabin will; stowing things that might otherwise rearrange themselves during the trip.

The replacement bulb for the foredeck light was scheduled to arrive by UPS today, so this morning we visited the harbormaster's office and let the man who was working today know that it would be coming. He told us that the UPS truck usually comes between 2 and 3 pm, so we planned to walk back to the office before that, so we could be there when the package arrived.

At about 1:15, Eric and I were surprised by a knock on our hull. It's usually just us and the gulls out here on D dock. It was the UPS guy, delivering our package...to our boat! When we thanked him and explained that we'd intended to have it delivered to the office, he said, "Well, there's no one there right now, and you put your boat's name on the address, so I figured I'd just bring it to you." Wow, that's service!

Five minutes later, Eric was up the mast, installing the new bulb. While he was up there, and I was on the deck in case he needed anything, a dinghy carrying three people rounded the end of the breakwater and approached D dock, where they tied up.


[Eric up the mast]

It turned out that they were the occupants of the red ketch anchored in the bay. They were on their way into town, but they stopped for a chat, during which we learned that both of our boats will be leaving tomorrow--for San Francisco! Buddy boat!

We invited them to come aboard when they came back from town, and they did. Christian, who's French (hence the French flag flying on his boat) is the captain. He built the steel ketch Albroc and began sailing her in 1981. Sylvia, his partner, is from Mexico and has been sailing with him for a few years. Francoise, their friend, is visiting from Victoria, where he runs a bed and breakfast.

Aboard Scoots, we traded stories, laughs, email addresses and weather sites. We learned that Christian and Sylvia recently arrived in the Pacific Northwest after a 52-day sail from the Marquesas, and that Francoise is also a chef, in addition to running the B&B. It was reassuring and encouraging for me--a novice passagemaker--to hear their sailing stories. Before they went back to their boat, we made plans to contact each other via HF radio at noon every day as we travel south.

Tonight, the wind is still howling, but tomorrow it's forecast to let up. And when it does, the good ship Scoots and her crew will head out, make The Big Left Turn, and head south, beginning our first ocean passage.