When we purchased our Nordhavn 43 trawler a little over two years ago, we had big plans for the fall of 2020. We’d leave our newly emptied home and sail off to far away destinations — a longtime dream come true.
In fact, we did cast off, but not like we expected.
We left our home port on Vashon Island on September 1st aboard Indiscretion headed generally for the San Juan Islands, some of the most beautiful cruising grounds in the world. No fixed itinerary. No set time to return. For once, we were cruising in September, a time long reserved for settling our kids into the new school year. Not this year. You see, we’ve reached that waypoint in life where the captain and first mate are mostly retired, and our children have flown the coop, left the nest, hit the road.
Well, sort of.
Our daughter is completing a master’s degree at the University of Washington, but her classes are all online because of the pandemic. So, she’s given up her apartment in Seattle and returned home. Our son left for his freshman year college in Colorado Springs in August, but the university told its incoming students to pack light; they will close down in the event of an outbreak. Since classes began, there have been 26 cases of COVID-19. We’re on alert, waiting for the phone call that he’s loaded up his Jeep and driving the 1,500 miles home to Washington state.
Indiscretion has the range and seaworthiness to go almost anywhere, safely and comfortably. Before the pandemic struck, we planned to voyage to Alaska this year as our first major expedition before heading down the west coast to Mexico. With closed borders, we can’t venture very far north. And with all this uncertainty over COVID-19, we can’t risk an extended trip down the coast.
So, while our voyage into Marriage 3.0 has begun in shoaling water with the possibility of uncharted reefs ahead, we’re still grateful for the position we’re in. We are healthy, live on an island which remains largely COVID-free, and have the freedom and flexibility to jump on our trawler and leave port for weeks or months. Life is good.
Port Ludlow and the Strait of Juan de Fuca
We spent our first night at anchor in Port Ludlow, a fine, protected harbor and well-suited for those traveling with dogs. It’s a good stop-over spot for South and Central Puget Sound boaters looking to cross the Strait.
There’s a place to tie up a dinghy just past the fuel dock and a nice network of walking trails near the Resort at Port Ludlow. Our evening walk took us near the restaurant at the resort with its beautiful, candlelit porch dining. We’ll have to try that on our next time here.
We thought we might stay a couple days in Port Ludlow, but the weather window to cross the Strait of Juan de Fuca was too good to linger. We made the crossing the next morning in mostly flat seas and blue skies. Our destination was Westcott Bay on the western side of San Juan Island, so we steered for the open water of Haro Strait.
About an hour from San Juan Island, we could make out a dozen or more boats huddled near the south end of the island, including three whale-watching boats. Whales! We’ve boated here for twenty years and have never encountered the famed Orca whale that plies these waters. This was our chance! We adjusted course to intercept, but we were too slow at our trawler speed of seven knots and the boats disbanded before we arrived. Oh well… We steered again for Haro Strait. Lisa took over the helm and I went down below for a nap.
From a comfortable snooze, I awoke 30 minutes later to a change in the engine’s RPMs and a shout from Lisa. I flew up the stairs to the pilothouse to catch a huge whale fin surfacing maybe 30 yards to port of us. We were all alone with no other boats anywhere around. We steered off to starboard to give the whale sea room and stopped the boat while this beauty put on a show, at one point lifting her entire body out of the water. We drifted along for ten minutes, totally mesmerized. What an incredible treat for our second day of cruising!
Westcott Bay, San Juan Island
We arrived in the islands on the Thursday before Labor Day weekend and wanted to find a place to anchor that wouldn’t be overrun with boats. Westcott Bay is a ten-minute tender ride from Roche Harbor, but far enough away that it didn’t feel crowded during the five days we spent there. We enjoyed a wonderful feast of oysters and wine at the Westcott Oyster Company before it shut down for the season. We took many hikes with the dogs through the historic English Camp inside nearby Garrison Bay.
During our time at Westcott, we endured two days of brisk wind out of the north. The bay seemed better protected from a north wind than other areas. We experienced 15-20 knot winds with occasional gusts of 25, but no higher. We slept well with our trusty Rocna anchor with Mantus bridle on the job.
Reid Harbor, Stuart Island
We next ventured north to Reid Harbor on Stuart Island. This anchorage has been a longtime favorite of ours for its protected harbor, dinghy dock for easy access to shore, and great trail system.
We spent two nights here on a mooring buoy. We admired three fellow Nordhavn trawlers that joined us in the bay.
After a few aborted attempts in past years, we completed the long hike to the lighthouse on the extreme western edge of Stuart. The dogs slept very well that night.
Friday Harbor, San Juan Island
We made a two-day stopover at the dock in Friday Harbor to pick up our daughter and her boyfriend for a visit. They drove up to Anacortes and took the ferry to meet us for a couple of days. We enjoyed the hospitality of Friday Harbor and took on provisions.
We moored up on the inside of breakwater D, the same place we tied up last year. The stern of Indiscretion faced the opening of the marina channel, so we got to see and wave at all the boats coming and going. After walking back to the boat after a nice dinner ashore, we noticed many boats had their underwater lights on for ambiance. We decided to turn ours on as well. Once illuminated, hundreds of squid swarmed the lights, and just moments later, a very agile seal swam in figure-eight loops right around our swim-step, devouring the squid. It stunned us all. We were slow to get our camera out, but here is the seal near the end of his feast:
Short Video Clip – Friday Harbor Seal Feast!
Blind Bay, Shaw Island
The smoke from all the forest fires burning in Eastern Washington, Oregon and California finally reached the islands as we motored from Friday Harbor to Blind Bay on Shaw Island. A little patchy fog mixed in with the smoke to made the trip visually challenging, though we could see quite well with radar.
After twenty years of cruising in the San Juan Islands, this was our first visit to Shaw Island. We anchored in about 45 feet of water near the opening of Blind Bay, close to Blind Island and the little marina/store.
We did some shopping at the store, which was surprisingly well-stocked, and chatted with a few Shaw islanders who were patiently waiting for one of the limited ferry sailings off the island. The store’s dock is the only place in the bay to land a tender, but it is limited to just patrons of the store, and off limits after hours. After buying $150 worth of food and supplies, we hoped we could use the dock that evening to take our two dogs ashore. But when we asked at the store, the answer was a firm no. This left a bad taste in our mouths, so we probably won’t visit again. Voyaging with dogs with a tender that can’t be easily beached has its limitations.
Fossil Bay, Sucia Island
We departed Blind Bay in a smoky haze on our way to Jones Island in hopes of snagging a mooring buoy, and if not, onward to Sucia Island. The haze began to thicken and once we cleared Orcas Island we were traveling in dense fog, the thickest in my boating career. Fog is common late summer in the San Juans and usually burns off by late morning. Indiscretion has radar and AIS, which becomes our electronic eyes in times like these.
As we approached Jones Island, the fog was so thick we couldn’t make out the island though we knew we were close based on the chart plotter and radar. We slowed down and steered for the north entrance. About halfway in, we still couldn’t see the shoreline or any boats, though we could tell the small bay was full based on radar and AIS signals. Visibility couldn’t have been more than 25 yards, making entry here too dangerous. We carefully reversed course and made way for more open water towards Sucia Island.
This thick fog persisted through the ten nautical miles up President Channel. Boat traffic was light and we were able to steer clear of other vessels. Most had AIS, which allows you to see their course and speed and whether you’re on a collision course. We passed a dozen or so boats during this 90 minute trip, but other than a blip on a screen, never actually saw them. Eerie.
The fog cleared on queue as we approached Fossil Bay on the southeast side of Sucia Island. We like Fossil Bay because of its two docks that allow easy access to shore in the tender. You can anchor in Fossil Bay, but the dozen or so mooring buoys take up the greater part of the anchorage.
We spent three days here, taking advantage of the network of hiking trails that span the island with long walks with the dogs, and simply relaxing in the gorgeous bay. Most evenings, we found ourselves gravitating to the flybridge to take in the sunset, dusk and twilight together. It doesn’t get much better than this.
Deer Harbor, Orcas Island
We took a slip at Deer Harbor Resort and Marina to charge our batteries, fill up the water tanks, and enjoy some shoreside activities. A little rain loomed in the forecast, so it was a good time to be at dock (dinghy rides in the rain with the dogs are not so fun). We bought more food and supplies at the marina store, enjoyed pizzas from Island Pie, and walked the half-mile up the road for a BBQ meal at the Deer Harbor Inn.
We enjoyed ourselves so much at this quaint marina that we decided to stay an extra day to explore more of Orcas by car. We rented a minivan and traveled along the rural back roads of the island. Wineries, farm stands, and stunning seaside vistas welcomed us. We made our way to Eastsound, the largest “town” on Orcas. We bought some gifts for friends back home, ate an OK meal at the town’s Irish Pub, and stocked up on more groceries at the first full-fledged grocery store we had seen in a few weeks.
Cap Sante Marina, Anacortes
We left Deer Harbor with charged batteries and a rested crew. We would normally look for an anchorage to while away a few days on the hook, but after reviewing the upcoming week’s weather forecast of strong south winds and rain, we decided it was time to make our slow progress home.
We steered for Cap Sante Marina in Anacortes. We’d never been there, but kept hearing such good things about the marina and town, we thought we should check it out. I’m so glad we did.
A quick call to the marina, and we had an assigned slip on C dock. The entrance to the marina involves winding your way through a wall-marked dredged channel and maneuvering through and around a lot of boat traffic, but once inside you’re treated to wide, well-marked fairways and easy slip access.
Once safely moored, we walked the busy docks to see four other Nordhavn trawlers moored on our dock alone. Nordhavn has a sales office here in Anacortes, and Yachttech, a renowned Nordhavn service center, has an office here.
A short walk from the head of the dock brought us to a huge fenced off-leash dock park. Whoa! Our two dogs had a very fine time stretching their legs at speeds their human counterparts could never achieve. What kind of town dedicates an acre of prime waterfront real estate for a off-leashdog park?
On the recommendation of a fellow boater, we walked another six blocks to find the Brown Lantern Tavern. We watched the first half of the Seattle Seahawks game while we enjoyed terrific food and beer. We were falling in love with Anacortes.
On the walk back to marina, Lisa and I wondered aloud: “why not keep our boat here?” We applied for permanent moorage later that night. It’s that good.
Kingston Marina and Home
We left Anacortes with some hesitation. We could have easily holed up here during the rain and wind and enjoyed ourselves at the dock and town, but we decided to push on.
We took the Swinomish Channel south to avoid the adverse currents we would face in the Strait of Juan de Fuca. We took this route a few times in our sailboat, but I found the tight maneuvering through the narrow dredged channel tiring. And we still fought an adverse current. In hindsight, I would have preferred the open water approach through the strait.
We arrived at Kingston Marina after a nine-hour trip, both of us tired. An errant boater had taken our assigned side tie slip near the marina entrance, so we backed into an awkward slip deep inside. This is when bow and stern thrusters come in super handy.
We hadn’t visited Kingston by boat before, so it was a treat to walk the grounds and have our choice of fine restaurants. We had a lovely dinner at the Kingston Ale House. If you go, try the deep-fried green beans. Trust me.
We left Kingston Marina around 9 am for our last leg home, a six-hour trip. Neither of us were anxious to be home, but the looming heavy winds and rain convinced us to head to the safety of our own slip. Other than dodging hundreds of hard-to-see logs, the trip to Vashon was uneventful. We docked around 3 pm, cracked open our arrival beers, and reflected together on our empty nest cruise.
Reflections on Empty Nest Cruising Aboard a Nordhavn 43 Trawler
First off, the boat seemed to expand significantly in size as our crew complement shifted from a family of four to a single couple. With just the two of us, the boat seemed palatial. We’ve considered larger Nordhavns, but after this trip, I don’t think it would make any sense to move up. This is the perfect size trawler for a couple and occasional guests.
We expected to find the island chain emptied out in September, but that wasn’t the case. We had never seen so many anchored boats in Roche Harbor during our visit over the Labor Day weekend. Later anchorages weren’t quite as crowded, but we found we needed to arrive earlier in the day to make sure we found a spot — not what we expected for September cruising.
Dogs on a boat are a pain in the ass, but I can’t imagine cruising without them.
We cooked some terrific meals aboard the boat without much more effort than our home kitchen. Provisioning with a specific meal plan for the trip made sure we had everything we needed onboard, and took the guesswork out of what to make.
We are getting pretty damned confident at docking this trawler. We had a rocky start, but since then, every docking maneuver has been straight-forward and controlled. I still get nervous, but I now think of this as just good seamanship.
Our confidence in anchoring has also greatly increased. We made some improvements to our anchoring system with new anchor rode, a Mantus bridle and Mantus swivel. We had a chance to put the new gear to the test in a bunch of new anchorages and in some stiff winds. Our Maretron Anchor Watch system proved we stayed put even as boats near us dragged.
We had no mechanical or equipment failures during the cruise, now over 2,000 trouble-free nautical miles put astern since owning Indiscretion. I’m diligent about preventative maintenance and stocking spare parts, but I’m starting to believe these Nordhavn trawlers really are bullet-proof. I’ve probably just jinxed everything by writing this.
Our longest stint away from a dock was seven days, and except for needing to pump out the holding tank, we could have gone much longer. Normal generator runtimes in the morning and night with our new charging system kept our new house batteries topped off. The watermaker kept up with our daily water usage. The trash compactor helped keep our trash to a minimum, at least in storage space. And our ample freezer and refrigeration units held more food than two people could possibly consume (we packed too much food, again).
We met some wonderful people during our cruise that share our passion for the water and boat life. With COVID-19, these encounters can’t expand beyond a chat across a dock or swim step to dinghy, but you know right away that you’re meeting special people, perhaps lifelong friends. We look forward to welcoming these kindred spirits aboard for a drink in future anchorages.
Cruising the San Juans in the final month of summer was amazing. We returned to our home slip at Quartermaster Marina on the first day of fall, just ahead of some torrential rainfall that our area desperately needed. I’m taking a few days to wax the boat and complete a few other scheduled maintenance tasks. Call it a short pit stop before we cast off again for more empty nest fall cruising. Hope to see you out there!
